


And Then There Was Wade

by aplacetoland



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adoptive Father Tony Stark, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Peter Parker, Bottom Peter Parker/Top Wade Wilson, Consent, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Hurt Peter Parker, M/M, My writing is ass, Oral Sex, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Slow Burn, Smut, Spideypool - Freeform, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily, Top Wade Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-16
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-05-24 02:54:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14946257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aplacetoland/pseuds/aplacetoland
Summary: When Aunt May falls ill and is placed in hospital care, Peter had promised that he would call Mr. Stark to stay with him until May was feeling better - However, Peter decided to take matters into his own hands ( bad idea ) and take to the streets ( bad idea number two ) in order to thrive on his own for a while. Meeting Wade Wilson was completely coincidental. Maybe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Although I've written Marvel works before, this is my first one posted. I hope that you guys enjoy my writing. This is definitely not one of the better works I've written, but if I get some positive feedback, I would definitely be willing to build upon other ships in new works ( Thorki, Stucky, Stony, etc. ) Leave suggestions in the comments below, and I appreciate any feedback, whether it's criticism or anything positive.
> 
>  **OTHER PLACES TO REACH ME:**  
>  \- aplacetoland on tumblr

Everything had happened much quicker than Peter would have liked.

Advanced Placement Human Biology project due third period tomorrow, pre-calculus exam right after lunch, The Midtown Science Faire in the afternoon… And all to top it off, Aunt May was diagnosed with cancer. Lung cancer, to be exact. She had woken up in the middle of the night and coughed up a heck of a lot of blood, and immediately, Peter insisted he drive her to the hospital. He had received his drivers license some time ago after he had taken a couple of months of drivers ed and had even saved up for his first car. It was cheap. A 2007 Saturn Aura, and it didn’t amount to much. Truthfully, it assisted with driving to school rather than taking public transportation. Although Peter didn’t particularly _need_ a car ( I mean, he is Spider-Man ), it was his best way to blend in with the other kids in order to prevent assumptions. Flash gave him a lot of shit for having such an old car, but Peter paid no mind. He had other things to worry about other than Flash right now.

So much so that the nurse at the hospital had insisted on staying with relatives. The only problem was that Peter didn’t _have_ anyone else. He had Tony Stark, but Peter was in no way prepared to call him up and ask for a place to stay. It was the wrong time. Things were complicated. Although Peter promised the nurse that he’d call up Stark as soon as he had gotten home to gather his things, he didn't. Well… He hadn’t done the former. Peter did, however, head to the apartment, packed up what he had, took a quick shower and exited the apartment building. Aunt May wouldn’t be home for a while, and technically, he was still a minor – He wouldn’t be eighteen for a couple of months. He’d find a job, somewhere, but right now, he needed a place to stay. And so he took out his cellphone, dialed Ned’s number, and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Peter. What’s up? Ooh—Do you need me for a super-spidey mission?” Ned’s voice rang positively from the other line. His exhilaration in such a simple conversation brought a smile to his lips.

“Hey, Ned.” Peter smiled into the phone and ran a hand through his hair. “No, no, heh. Uh- Listen, you don’t happen to be home, right?”

“Nope. Goin’ to Canada for Winter Break. We’re leaving tomorrow to get a head start. Can’t hang out, bud.” Ned said.

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit._ “Oh.” Peter nodded a bit. “Okay. Uh- Thanks, anyway.”

“Sorry… Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Ned. It’s fine. Listen, I’ll call you later.” He said.

“Okay! Tell May I say hi!”

“Will do.” Peter mumbled, before he ended the call with a huff, starting down the street. Welp, that was out of question. He nibbled on his bottom lip and considered calling Michelle, but he and MJ didn’t speak very much, and he almost felt awkward calling, and… Well, he dialed her anyway. On the third ring, she answered.

“What’s up, loser?”

“Michelle.” Peter cleared his throat. “Uh—Hey. Hi.”

“What do you want?” She asked with a soft huff of air escaping her lips. She wasn’t bothered, but she was pretending to be.

“Listen, I—Uhm… You’re not going anywhere for Winter Break, right?”

Michelle was silent for a moment. “Uh—Nope. Staying home. Why?”

Peter fumbled with the sleeve of his sweatshirt nervously. “Can I—Uhm… Can I maybe stay over? Just one night?” He asked hesitantly.

“Stay over? Like… A sleepover?” Michelle questioned. “Don’t we have school tomorrow?”

“Uhm… It’ll just be one night…” Peter contemplated telling her what happened. He wasn’t _that_ close with Michelle. Telling her his problems was unnecessary. She probably had enough on her plate. “Yeah. You know… Cause you’re cool.”

“Cause I’m cool.” She repeated unsurely.

“If I can.” He mumbled the last part.

She sighed. “Fine.” She said. “Come by after dinner.” And then she hung up.

Up until around 7:30 when Michelle sent a text over to Peter that dinner was finished, – Peter bought a sandwich from Delmar at the deli – he had spent a bit of time as Spider-Man. Luckily, while his bags were unattended, nothing was taken, and he had prevented someone’s motorcycle from being stolen. One step up from a bike, at least, right? He changed swiftly into comfortable jeans and a graphic t-shirt, throwing a sweatshirt over his body. It was growing closer to the end of winter, and it’s when things grew coldest in New York. He stepped up into the apartment building that Michelle directed him to and sent her a text that he was here. She came down to the lobby to let him in, and guided him to the fourth floor, where her apartment was at the end of the hall.

The elevator ride was quiet.

“Just to let you know, my mom isn’t home.” Michelle explained as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Peter came in after her, and she shut the door.

“Oh.”

“Don’t get all nervous.” Michelle rolled her eyes, setting the key aside as she brought him into the living room. “You can set your stuff down here. Hey – Why’d you bring so much stuff, anyway? It’s just one night.” She rose a brow towards him as she plopped down on the couch.

Peter cleared his throat as he set his bags down and joined her on the couch. “Uh- Just in case.” He explained anxiously, resting his hands in his lap with awkwardness.

“So… Why’d you want to hang out, anyway?” She asked curiously, beginning to flip through the channels of her television.

“I already told you.” Peter said softly.

“Oh. Cause I’m cool? Bullshit.” Michelle said, glancing over at him.

Peter breathed in a bit. Oh, Michelle saw right through his hot, steaming pile of BS. He licked over his dry lips. “I mean it.” He said. Although that wasn’t the reason he was here, Michelle _was_ cool. She was awesome. He was glad to have her as a friend. “Well… I don’t know. I feel as if we haven’t really… hung out before.” He mumbled, shrugging. “Say—Where are your parents, anyway?” He tried to change the subject quickly.

“Mom works late.” Michelle explained. “It’s, uh… It’s why I asked you to come after dinner. So, I could spend some time with her.” She said.

Peter nodded, eyes sympathetic. An absence of parenthood was something Peter had experienced since he was young. “I’m sorry.”

She waved him off. “It’s fine.” She said. “Say, you ever watch The Office?”

;

As the night went on, Peter and Michelle had bonded quite a bit. They spent hours on the couch, snacking on junk food and keeping their eyes glued to the television. Although Peter was a sucker for older movies, he really did enjoy The Office as a television show. It was hilarious, and he was kind of glad that Michelle had made him sit down to watch it.

“Oh, come on. How can you find Dwight annoying?” Michelle popped a piece of candy into her mouth and leaned back against the couch cushions.

“You’re a bully.” Peter laughed. “He’s just… I don’t know… desperate, I guess.”

She rolled her eyes again. “So are you.” She teased.

He smiled down at his hands. “Wow. That’s cold.”

Michelle beamed over at him. “Hey, uh—Thanks for hanging out, Pete. I know I can be hard on you, but… You’re welcome here any time.” She said.

Peter wished that he could ask any time. Given the circumstances, he left the next day, anyway.

He was thankful for Michelle. He would make plans to visit her more often, but he also had to think of excuses for Ned and Michelle as to why he wouldn’t be in school for the next two days before Winter Break started. He had enough money on him for maybe two weeks, needed to get a job, and find a place to stay. He had an entire day ahead of him to contemplate whether he wanted to spend his money on a hotel room for one night or call up Harry Osborn to spend the night there.

Harry Osborn was a good friend of Peter’s. The two of them had met around sophomore year, and although at first he had consistently teased Ned and Peter for being absolute nerds, Harry had spent multiple nights with them building Star Wars Lego sets and drinking plenty of caffeine to keep an all-nighter going. They had lost a bit of contact over the summer, but they still texted occasionally. Harry was filthy rich, and a lot of kids tried to take advantage of that, but… Never Peter. Peter just wanted to be Harry’s friend.

Peter situated himself on top of a small brick apartment building as he set his stuff down, swinging his legs a bit and pressing his phone to his ear. He had charged his phone at Michelle’s and decided not to use it unless it was a complete emergency, or he needed to make a necessary call. Harry didn’t pick up, but Harry called him two minutes later.

“Peter!” Harry greeted. He could hear his smirk over the phone. “How are you?”

“Hey, Harry.” Peter smiled a bit. “Listen, I was wondering if you were going to be home for winter break…”

“Well, I am, but…” Harry trailed off.

“But?” Peter rose a brow.

“Y’know… I have ladies coming over.” Harry said.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, I can’t—Uhm... I can’t stay in the other room, or…?” No, Pete, that was weird. God, why would he even ask that? Peter suddenly felt embarrassed.

Harry laughed. “I’m free, like, next Saturday. You understand, right? Betty wants to stay for a couple of days, and I just… Haven’t had much action in a while.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Yeah. No, I understand.”

“Sorry, Pete. We’ll get you laid one day, okay?” He said over the phone.

“Harry…”

“I’m teasing! I’m teasing.” He laughed. “I’ll see you, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said.

“Hey, wait—Why weren’t you in school today?” Harry asked suddenly.

“Uh—Bit of a cold, is all.” He said.

“Oh. All right. Let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you.” Harry said, and then he hung up. Peter shut off his phone and slipped it into his pocket, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. So, a hotel room it was. He pulled his winter coat closer to his body and slipped down into the alleyway of the apartment to get down to the floor without much notice from the public eye. The sun had already set, and it was growing dark. He had blown some more money on food today, and for now, he had to find a cheap room to stay in.

Peter had his bag slung over his shoulder with a soft exhale between his lips, heading down the street with tired eyes. He had been walking down the pavement, seemingly the only one on the block, his head down and his eyes on his feet.

Now, Peter was an extremely strong young man – The bite from the spider had certainly caused that. But sedatives were an immediate weakness. So as an arm had been tightened around his neck and he was dragged into the darkness of an alleyway, he had little to no time to fight back as a needle was jammed into the pulse point of his neck. He had just a second or two to push whoever it was off of him, but any attempt to bolt away was halted as he took one step forward and was suddenly on his stomach, knees crashing into the cement along with his head. His mind was spinning, vision blurred, and he felt hands all over him – Searching his pockets for cash or items. He tried to keep his eyes open, to shout in protest, but the sounds slipping from his lips were simple groans of nonsense and gibberish.

Peter wasn’t sure how long he had been laying there – It could have been hours, or minutes. But when he had awoken, his eyelids fluttered open gradually. It was still dark, and after his sight had adjusted, the first thing he had allowed his eyes to land on was a figure bending over him. Bright white eyes and a red and black mask.

“Ooh… Buddy, someone really fucked _you_ over today.” The man rose a brow behind his mask. “Thank God you still have your looks.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter’s pretty shitty at keeping secrets. And he’s not so sure about his new, temporary roommate, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and please feel free to ask questions. The positive comments on my last chapter were very well appreciated. You guys are too kind. <3

Squinting up at the man, Peter’s lips pulled into a frown. “Wh—” He tried to sit up, but an obvious grunt of pain was pushed from the back of his throat.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you. Wouldn’t want to fuck with your back troubles more. Though you are too young to have back troubles. I should be, too. Luckily I don’t have _any_ troubles except for the fact that I’m ugly as shit.”

Peter huffed as he reached up. The cold tips of his digits rubbed at his eyes. He was shivering, teeth chattering. “M-My stuff—Where’s my stuff? My bag?” He squinted around the dark alley.

“Ooh. Sorry, kid. I found you with nothing but your clothes. Hopefully your dignity, too.” The man said.

Peter felt his heart drop. His wallet, keys, cellphone and bag of clothes were gone. They had stripped him of his winter coat, too, leaving him in a denim jacket, sweatshirt, t-shirt and jeans. Luckily, he had his Spider-Man suit underneath his clothes. He tucked his hands towards his stomach in order to generate some heat, glancing up at the unknown man. “Who are you?” He asked. His breath puffed from his lips in a white cloud of air.

“Pool. Dead.” He beamed, offering his hand to help Peter up.

“I’m not sure that’s a name.” Peter said, reaching up. His fingers curled around the warmth of the other’s digits, pulling himself up with a struggled noise of slight pain.

“Someone’s sassy.” Deadpool said, releasing Peter’s hand. “What’s your name?”

He brushed off some dirt from the back of his pants. “Peter.”

“Just Peter? That would be really fucking lame if you didn’t have a last name.” Deadpool tilted his head. “It suits you, though. Okay, Petey. I can go with that.”

Peter glanced at him. “Uh—Peter. Please. Not ‘Petey’.” He murmured sheepishly.

“Oh, no, I like Petey better.” He grinned. “Say—Why are you out so late, anyway, kid? What are you, like… Twelve?”

He tucked his arms back against his chest, folding them tightly. “Seventeen.” He corrected. “Listen, it was real nice to meet you, but I should get home.” Peter, without another word, started out of the alley and down the block.

Deadpool started walking with him. “Home, huh? Where is your beautiful home? Because some fuckface obviously took your shit, seeing as you were so disheartened at the loss of it.”

“Please leave me alone.” Peter murmured, rubbing up and down his biceps. The air was extremely cold, and Peter was willing to get out of it as soon as possible.

“Oh, come on. You’re obviously not going anywhere, unless your home is some shitty outback steakhouse where the girls get it on in the kitchen.” He gasped dramatically. “Are you a prostitute?”

“What?” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, I’m—I’m never—I’ve never even had s—” He stopped himself there. Bad idea to tell a stranger _anything_ about sex. 

“Ooh. A Virgin Mary. That’s cute.” Deadpool swung his arms a bit as he walked with Peter. “I remember my first time. We made sweet Jamaican love in a gas station bathroom.”

“Ew.” Peter glanced at him. “Really?”

“No.” Deadpool scoffed. “It was in her apartment.”

“Why are you even telling me this?” He squinted over at him. “Listen, it was real nice of you to stand over me as I woke up, but it’d be really cool if you could just go away now. I don’t even know your real name.”

Deadpool stepped in front of Peter to prevent him from walking. Peter walked face-first into the other’s chest, taking a slight step back as he looked up at Deadpool. “Tell me your name first.”

“Huh?”

“Tell me your full name, and then I’ll stop.” Deadpool looked down at him.

“Tell me yours.” Peter said.

“I did. Deadpool.”

“Your real name.” Peter brought his sweatshirt closer to him.

“That is my real name.”

“It’s an alias.” Peter pointed out.

Deadpool rolled his eyes. He was starting to remind Peter of Michelle. “Okay. Fine. Wade.”

“That’s it?” Peter rose an eyebrow.

“Yes, Petey. And you are?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Parker.”

Wade smiled a bit. “Wilson.”

“Wade Wilson.” Peter nodded a little. “Well… Great. It was nice to meet you, but I’m going to go now.” He sighed, turning on his feet to head down the block.

Wade followed him, anyway. “Isn’t this the opposite direction of your home?”

“You said you’d stop following me if I told you my name.” Peter grumbled.

“I said I’d stop, period.” He claimed. “Never said stop what.”

Peter halted in his steps, and now he was glaring at Wade. “Listen, I don’t know you. I don’t know who you are, or why you’re following me, or why you’re wearing that ridiculous costume…”

“I thought it made my ass look nice.” Wade grinned stupidly.

“I just want to be left alone.” Peter looked back up at Wade. His eyes were soft this time, almost pleading. He didn’t really want Wade to leave, truthfully, but how could he trust a man he just met?

Wade tilted his head. “Okay. Just answer me this one question. One question, and I’ll be off your back.”

Peter cocked an eyebrow, waiting.

“Why weren’t you bothered at first that I was wearing the suit?” He said.

Peter was silent for a little bit. “Well, I mean-- There are plenty of masked superheroes around the city today.” He shrugged, trying to make up an excuse.

“Not a superhero.” Deadpool corrected briskly. “But Spider-Man… _Whew._ Now, _he_ has an ass.”

Peter flushed immediately. “I mean, I guess so…”

“Anyway, my apartment is about four blocks away.” Wade said casually.

“What?” 

“Well, if you stay out here and sleep by the garbage, you’ll be fucked up and would have probably frozen to death by morning, seeing as you’ve been wearing nothing but a sweatshirt and jeans. Cute, but not fit for the weather. So, my apartment is four blocks away.”

Peter was silent. Wade was right. But again… He had just met Wade. Peter knew he could defend himself, but… Reluctance was still obvious. He bit his bottom lip. Not to mention that fact that now that his keys and money were gone, he really couldn’t get into his apartment – He questioned as to why he hadn’t stayed there in the first place. If the window to his apartment was open, he could still get in. But it was a longshot. Peter had spotted on his way out previously the nurse making stops home, presumably to gather some of Aunt May’s things. Peter put his face in his hands for a moment to scrub at his temples stressfully, before arms dropped to his sides.

“Just for a night.”

Wade grinned. “Fuck, yeah. C’mon.”

;

It wasn’t a far walk, but Peter had begun to grow colder by the minute. Wade was babbling on about God-knows-what all up until they actually reached his apartment, which was just as bad as Peter had imagined. Cluttered, messy, the door unlocked and the only thing currently clean being the couch. Peter didn’t mind, though. It’s what he had for now, and he wasn’t about to complain. He was absolutely thankful when the warmth returned to his skin, though Peter rubbed his hands together to assist the increase of heat.

“Nice, isn’t it?” Wade said almost proudly, plopping down onto the couch with a satisfied sigh. “You can sleep on the couch. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Peter blinked. “You don’t have a bed?”

“Nah. It’s fine.” Wade shrugged.

“Okay, well, I’ll take the floor, then.” Peter suggested.

“Listen, this isn’t going to turn out like some summer-sweet fling, slow-pining high school bullshit fanfiction between Charles and Erik. You’re taking the couch.” He said.

Peter blinked. “Well… Okay.” He sighed. “Do you have an extra toothbrush?” He asked. He was kind of just standing there, an awkward mess. This was worse than staying at Michelle’s.

“Somewhere.” Wade shrugged, kicking off his shoes and stretching out his legs with a grunt.

Peter swallowed a little bit. “Oh, uh—”

“Right, right. You’re young. You need your sleep. Toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet.” He said. “I think.”

Peter nodded. “Uh—Where’s the bathroom?”

Wade looked around his apartment. “I think—It might be that door there.”

Peter gestured towards the small hallway leading to two separate doors.

“Yeah. Second one on your left.” He explained.

Peter nodded again, and as he stepped into the hallway and entered the second room, he was immediately greeted by a screaming, dark-skinned blind woman. He rushed out quickly, and pulled the door shut with tinted cheeks of pink.

“Oop.” Wade giggled like a school girl. “Sorry. First door.”

Peter huffed. “Thanks for the heads up.” He said. He opened the door slightly this time to proceed with caution, but once he saw that it was the bathroom, he stepped inside and shut the door. When he opened the medicine cabinet, it _did_ have a toothbrush. But there was also a can of pepper spray, a nail clipper, a couple of empty shells of bullets and about six bottles of Advil. Peter blinked, but decided to pay no mind as he brushed his teeth, exited the bathroom, and returned to the living room. He came back to the sight of Wade making a bed on the couch for Peter, which caused just a small smile to pull at the corner of his lips.

“How many pillows do you like? One? Two?” Wade glanced over at Peter. He was still wearing his suit.

“Uhm... One’s fine.” Peter nodded, slowly making his way to the couch.

“Cool. Get some rest. I’ll be back, Petey.”

Before Peter could object, Wade crawled right out the window. And Peter was left to lay on that couch, both completely puzzled and utterly overwhelmed from the events from the past few hours. 

;

If Peter had dreamed, he had been startled awake in the middle of it. Not by the screaming blind lady, or even Wade cursing. He was woken up by the sound of a gunshot. A gunshot just two feet away from him.

The teenager had been curled up soundly on the couch, bottom lip protruding in a pout from exhaustion, blankets pulled up to his chin. He felt warm, and happy, and although the couch held a vague scent of earth, Peter slept well.

Up until, of course, the gun shot. And that gun was fired by none other than Wade Wilson.

“Alright, fucker.” Wade spat down at a figure, who was currently writhing on the floor, trying to move away from Wade. “What’d you do with his stuff?”

Peter woke up with a horrified expression, unable to comprehend anything at the moment.

The figure groaned, spitting blood and teeth up at Wade. “I didn’t take anyone’s shit.” The man said weakly. However, Peter did recognize it as the man who had sedated him and stripped him of his necessities. Wade, in return, shot him in the arm and dug the toe of his boots into the fresh wound. The man shouted in agony. Peter flinched at both the sight and the sound.

“Seriously, if you don’t tell the truth, I’ll fuck up your face just as bad as mine. I’ll make your nutsack look as wrinkly as Ian McKellen. No offence to the man, he is attractive. But wrinkly. And that’s what your testicles are going to look like.”

“Wade!” Peter said suddenly, which had, of course, startled Wade. He had accidentally pulled the trigger, and the bullet shot directly into the man’s throat, splattering the floor and painting the boards of it red.

“Oh, fuck. Come on, Parker, I was so close to finding out where your shit was left.” Deadpool clicked the safety on the gun and tossed it aside, looking up at Peter. But Peter was still horrified and was slowly getting up to gather his shoes. “Hey, wait. Where are you going?”

“You just _shot a man._ ” Peter said, as if it were obvious.

“Well, yeah. To get your stuff back.” Wade cocked an eyebrow.

“Thanks for everything. I’m gonna go.” Peter said swiftly. He was not about to stick around Wade Wilson any longer. Peter slipped right out the door and webbed away from the scene. 

;

Spending the next few hours or so searching for your bags kind of sucked. So, when Peter had finally found where his things were stashed, he was thankful to find everything in place. Well, everything except the fact that his key was gone ( of course ), his cellphone was dead, and his charger was torn. He had stepped into a local gas station bathroom to get changed out of his clothing, ignoring the blood stains on his shoes from where the man’s blood had stained it before. He bought a new charger, too. Peter was sure that if he was at Wade’s any longer, Wade would have shot him next. The best thing to do right now was to stay as far away from Wade as possible. Wade knew who he was, and that didn’t settle well in Peter’s stomach.

Peter contemplated on his next move. Technically, he could go back home. He really did miss his bed after two nights on other people’s couches. But he had promised May and the nurses that he’d be staying with Stark. And if anyone had gone back to their apartment to get something, Peter would have gotten caught. He didn’t know why he had to stay with someone, anyway. He was almost an adult, and by now, should be able to stay _alone._ He knew how May got, however.

He ended up going back home for three things – Food, a clean bathroom, and ultimately his bed. He had decided that he would be able to hide from the nurses, or anyone who had stopped in, if they came in for a brief moment to gather more things. It was kind of silly – He should have just called Tony the day May had been placed into the hospital. It was definitely in Peter’s best interest, and he questioned as to why he had ever thought sleeping around – quite literally, not figuratively – was a good idea. Although he wasn’t able to get in through the front door with his key, he had waited until night struck to crawl through the window and welcome the warmth of his room. No one would come into his bedroom, however, if _anyone_ at all had decided to stop in.

In fact, Peter had done this for a week now.

School was approaching fast. Over the past few days, he had called Aunt May, Michelle, and even Ned to check in and see how things were in Canada. He hung out with Michelle once or twice, but that was about it.

Mostly, he’s been spending his time as Spider-Man. Nothing else really made him feel better. He’s been finding that the more he searched for crime, the more he found it. Today was his lucky day. Lucky day as in six different guys cornering one college nerd with a laptop case.

Just as one of the criminals aimed their gun at the college boy, Peter swooped down as swiped the gun. “Oh, you shouldn’t have this.” He landed down in front of the college boy, emptied the gun and tossed it aside. “Seriously, guys? I mean, the pizzeria down the block needs open spots for a job – Get your money elsewhere.” Peter shrugged for a moment. He had actually applied for a job there. _Why haven’t they answered me back yet?_

And all at once, of course, they advanced on him.

Peter was relatively glad that the boy had made it out safe and was able to escape before he was harmed, but Peter was left to six armed men, all of which if they didn’t have guns, they had knives. And Peter was strong. He could kick the shit out of anyone if he wanted to but fighting six guys kind of sucked. He dodged most of their bullets and the lunges of their knives, but the man behind him in particularly had advanced, slashing a deep wound into his side. It had shred his suit as the blood started to pour profusely from the gash, and it was growing considerably harder to focus on fighting all of them at once. The next blow was to his leg. This time, however, the bullet entered his leg, and his leg felt as if it were on fire.

Peter grunted as he stepped back from a punch, but the pressure on his leg caused Peter to fall onto his back as the next shot was at his upper thigh of the other leg. He screamed out in pain, a strong fist connecting with the side of his head as he gasped for the air to enter his throat. It was hard to breathe when he was currently in a panic because, hey, he’s never really been shot before.

His eyes squeezed shut as he tasted the metallic iron of blood on his tongue, but everything stopped, just for a moment. There were gunshots again – But this time, Peter didn’t feel any of the presumable bullets shot enter his body. He opened his eyes and wiped at the tear droplets that had collected on his waterline, and he really wasn’t sure if he was relieved or fearful at the sight of Wade Wilson standing over three dead bodies and shooting three more.

Police sirens blared in the distance, and before Spider-Man knew it, Wade had scooped him up, and they were out of the alley faster than Peter’s brain was able to process. His eyelids fell shut under the mask as he pressed his face into Wade’s shoulder with a garbled sound of discomfort, his headache catching up to him, as well as the fiery pain in his legs. He gripped the material of Wade’s suit, and although he didn’t open his eyes, he knew where he was being taken. He would have protested, seeing as he wanted to be as far away from Wade as possible, but it was impossible for him to run right now.

Wade was rambling on about something, and Peter was pretty sure he used ‘fuck’ five or six times within one sentence. Eventually, they were crawling through the window and Wade set Peter down onto the couch. Except, Wade didn’t know this was Peter. Wade knew Peter Parker and Spider-Man as two different people.

“Well, fuck.” Deadpool sighed, fishing through the anonymous items on a broken dresser in the living room to search for medical items. “Seriously, I’m really fucking honored. I mean, Spider-Man is this great hero – Nice ass, by the way – But I never thought that Spidey would need _my_ help.” Wade giggled childishly.

Goddamnit, Wade. _Couldn’t you have just left me there?_

“Well, anyway. This makes me your knight in shining armor. Which means I totally get to find out who you are after this.”

Peter immediately tried to stand at Wade’s comment, but as soon as he was on his feet, he felt himself falling. He didn’t hit the floor, however. Wade had turned and caught his arms, tilting his head down at the teenager. “Relax. I was kidding. Kind of. I take off my mask, sweetheart, and you take off yours. It’s a fair deal, no?”

Peter didn’t say anything. He didn’t want Wade to recognize his voice. His head was slumped back a bit to stare up at the other man, and he shook his head.

Wade pouted under his mask. “You’re no fun.” He said. Gingerly, he scooped Peter back into his arms, and set him down onto the couch.

Peter wondered what was up with Wade and wanting to know who everyone was when he wouldn’t even show his own face. Peter wondered if Wade ever took off his suit.

“So, you don’t talk? Selectively mute? Do you not like me? I’m very likeable.” Wade disappeared into the bathroom before he returned with two wet rags and plopped down onto the couch, starting to work on the gash at the side of his ribs. He cleaned it first, Peter making small sounds of protest at first, but eventually relaxing against the ginger cleansing of his wound. “I swear. I like puppies. That makes me likeable already. So, fucking like me, dude.”

Peter turned his head slightly to look at Wade.

Wade glanced back at him through the mask. “I saw you get punched. So, we’re going to have to eventually nurse the bruise on your face. Which means masks off.” He placed the wet rag aside as he grasped the stitching materials.

Stitching was a bitch, but Wade got the job done. Peter was kind of grateful for him. Even for a minute or two.

Peter shook his head, anyway.

“Oh, come on. I just fucking stitched you up. Just half of your face would do.” Wade rolled his eyes. He tore the fabric of Peter’s suit on his thigh next, to which Peter felt the color rise in his face and taint his cheeks a rosy shade of pink. It wasn’t even a big deal, but Peter really didn’t like showing too much skin. That was just him.

Peter was too distracted to realize the sudden presence of a pair of tweezers yanking the bullet from his leg, to which he gripped the couch and muffled a scream. It pressed from his lips as a warped objection, and the pain had fallen worse when Wade wiped over the wound with an alcoholic pad.

“Fuck!” Peter said in a distressed manner. He was pretty sure he’s never said that word in his life but hanging around Wade had its perks.

“Ooh.” Wade grinned. If he didn’t have a mask on, he’d probably be batting his eyelashes. “Spidey has a dirty mouth. I wonder how nicely that’s used under the sheets.” He sighed wonderfully, placing a bandage over the bullet wound. He repeated the process with Peter’s lower leg this time, to which Spider-Man was a bit more prepared. That, however, didn’t lessen the burn within his legs. At this point, his suit was ripped and bloodied, and Peter knew that Mr. Stark would not be happy. At all. But Peter could probably fix it up himself.

Wade placed the medical utensils aside for now and disappeared into the back room. He returned with a fresh pair of clothes. It looked like sweatpants and a sweatshirt. They had to be Wade’s.

“All right. I’ll give you these clothes, but seriously, as much blood as I get on my couch, you shouldn’t sleep in that shit. You’re gonna wake up feeling a lot worse.” Wade said.

Peter turned his head towards Wade. He shook his head again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Deadpool rolled his eyes. “Fine. Fine, suit yourself.” He shrugged, placing the clothes aside. “What about your face?”

“I’m fine.” Peter mumbled. He tried to make his voice deeper in attempt to create a façade that he really wasn’t seventeen years old, but it didn’t work too well. Wade kept his eyes on him for a moment, almost as if he recognized the voice, but he decided against making any assumptions.

After a moment, before either of them could speak ( not that Peter would ), Peter felt his phone ring. He made the obvious decision to ignore it, but Karen piped up in his Spidey suit. She had probably been trying to speak to him for the last twenty minutes or so, but he was too out of it to notice. 

“The call is from Mr. Stark. Should I answer?”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly. “No, Karen do not—”

“Who’s Karen?” Wade looked over at Peter. “Is she pretty?”

“Pete?” Tony’s voice was now evident in his suit, and Peter mentally facepalmed himself. Of course, Karen had answered the call.

He glanced at Wade, swallowing dryly. “Uh—Hi.” Peter said plainly, sinking down against the couch cushions. Of all times.

Wade squinted. “Hello.”

“Not you.” Peter hissed quietly.

“Not who?” Tony asked.

“Nothing. Hi, Tony.” Peter murmured.

“Hey. Listen, I was just checking in. I heard Aunt May was in the hospital. I’m really sorry about that, Pete.” Tony said.

“Thanks.” Peter murmured. Wade was watching with curiosity.

“I also heard that you were supposed to be staying with me for the past two weeks. Aunt May called me when she couldn’t reach you, and, well…”

“Oh.” Peter swallowed again.

“Yeah. _Oh._ Listen, I don’t know where you are, but you better get your tiny kid-genius ass at the compound in the next three hours or I’m sending out a search party. It’s bad enough you took out the tracker in this suit.”

“I’m safe.” Peter said suddenly. He looked over at Wade.

“Oh? And who are you safe with, hm?” Tony questioned. He really did sound as if Peter was his kid.

Wade probably batted his eyelashes at Peter. Again. Fucking Wade.

“Ned.” Peter lied with a slight sigh.

“Ned.” Tony repeated, unconvinced.

“Yes.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. “Fine. I’m picking you up tomorrow night at _Ned’s._ ”

“Okay.”

“See you, kid. And you better be there.”

Peter was first to hang up. He slowly moved his eyes over to Wade. It was obvious he had heard the entire conversation. He glanced down at his hands.

“You know, kid,” Wade stood himself up, stepping towards the kitchen. He returned two seconds later with an icepack. “I recognized that ass from a mile away.” He slowly handed Peter the icepack. “You wouldn’t have been hiding for very long.”

Peter took the icepack into his hands with a sigh. He reached up and pulled the mask from his head, revealing a bruised eye and a short but gorgeous mane of brown, wavy curls. He pressed the ice against the purplish-red skin, just where the fist had come into contact with his face. “I know.” He said, leaning back against the couch. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don’t end exactly as planned with Wade, and Peter has a lot of explaining to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize this chapter is so short. I'd figured I'd keep it short and sweet until things go down.

“Why are you on the streets?” Deadpool shook his head. “I mean I know your Aunt is sick. That fucking sucks. But your dad—”

“He’s not my dad.” Peter said. As much as he would have liked Tony to be his dad, Tony wasn’t. “He’s… My mentor.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to stay with him because I didn’t want to be a bother. I’m staying back home, now, anyway.” He grasped the clothes from aside and set the icepack down, but as he got up to change, he hissed at the instantaneous pressure on his leg, and carefully sat himself back down. Deadpool grasped the clothes from him and stood up.

“I’ll change you.” Wade said casually.

Peter eyed him with nervousness.

“Relax.” Wade scoffed. “I’m not going to do anything. You need to get out of these clothes.”

“Wade, you really don’t have to—”

“It’s fine.” Wade said. His voice had fallen gentler this time, and he slowly began to remove Peter’s suit from his body. By the time Peter was in just his boxers, the blood that had soaked his suit had left a translucent layer of red on certain spots of Peter’s skin, and Wade was already working to wipe away any of it. Peter felt almost embarrassed like this in front of Wade, but he never would have openly admitted that this felt really, really nice.

Wade brushed the wet rag over Peter’s abs, the fingertips of his gloves moving down Peter’s side to keep him steady. Peter shut his eyes for a moment as Wade took care of him, but as he finished up, Wade had him sit up straight so it’d be easier to get the sweatshirt on.

“Arms up.” Wade said. Thankfully, Peter’s arms really weren’t harmed in any way, so it didn’t take long to bring the sweatshirt over Peter’s head and onto his body. Wade was careful, however, not to brush against the stitches on the side of his body.

Peter glanced up at Wade.

Wade looked back at him. “What?”

Peter gently bit his bottom lip. “Why are you being nice to me?”

Wade smiled against the mask, gently pushing Peter’s shoulders back and raising his hips slightly. Peter felt his face and body flush at the brief position, but it was just to bring the sweatpants onto his legs and up to his small hips. Wade’s fingers glided so easily up the sides of his thighs as the sweatpants were only a tad bit big around Peter’s hips, to which Wade began to tie them. “I’m not being nice, kid.”

Peter frowned a bit, and as he was back into his previous position on the couch, he moved himself back a bit. His eyes never moved from Wade’s. “You saved my life.”

“You ran from me.” He said, but he wasn’t hurt. “… I’m sorry I scared you.”

Peter reached up before Wade could sit down. His smaller hands were placed on Wade’s shoulders first, and he swallowed a bit. His fingers curled against the base of the mask. Wade moved to pull away, but Peter’s arms tightened around the other’s shoulders slightly. “Wade…”

“I can’t.” Wade whispered, shaking his head.

“I showed you my face.” Peter said, voice just as soft.

“And you’re fucking stunning, you asswipe.” Wade said, teasingly at the last part. Peter glanced away, growing sheepish. “I’m the opposite, Pete. I’m like… I’m like… It’s like a really ugly hairless cat had sex with a shriveled prune. And an old lady.”

Peter smiled a bit. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am not.” Wade squinted.

“Show me.” Peter mumbled, big brown doe eyes gazing up at Wade. He was almost pouting.

Wade decided that Peter was really, really adorable. He probably shouldn’t.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” Peter said, and he gripped Wade’s mask again. Wade didn’t fight back this time.

He shifted a bit closer to the edge of the couch, and slowly began to roll up the mask to Wade’s suit. As he removed it completely, the mask dropped at his feet, and for a moment, he took in the shapes and texture of Wade’s face. He knew where Wade was getting at with his description – But Peter was almost unbothered by it.

Wade blinked. “You’re supposed to be screaming.”

“You’re not shooting a gun.” Peter teased, which caused a light smile from Wade’s lips. Peter’s hands moved up to caress the sides of Wade’s face, thumb brushing over his ragged cheekbones. “You’re not ugly either.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Wade rolled his eyes.

Peter laughed. “I mean it.” He said. “I mean, obviously my haircut is better, but…”

Wade smiled a little bit more. “Well, fuck.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re the first person with a positive reaction.”

Peter tilted his head. His pupils were glued to Wade’s. Wade leaned forward a bit, but nothing occurred. Peter just kept his eyes on him. “You should wear your suit less often.” He blinked when he realized how that sounded. “I mean—Not like that, I—"

“I get it.” Wade chuckled. “You should wear your suit _more_ often.” Wade grinned a little more, a bit of flirtatiousness to his expression. Or maybe it was always there, and it was Peter’s first chance at seeing such a charismatic quirk to Wade’s lips. Wade moved to take a seat on the couch, slowly. He didn’t sit very far from Peter.

That earned a soft smile from Peter. Instead of sending to Wade any looks of disapproval, Peter pulled off one of Wade’s gloves, and allowed his fingers to feel over the hilly layer of skin on Wade’s knuckles. “Why are you so scared of others seeing you?”

“Now you’re just being nice.”

“I mean it.” Peter said. “Who did this to you, Wade?”

“It doesn’t matter now. I shot him in the face.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It felt really nice.”

“You didn’t have to kill him, though, Wade.” Peter said quietly.

“Of course, I did.” Wade said.

“But why?”

“His existence was a complete fucking waste of oxygen.” Wade cocked an eyebrow, pulling away slightly.

“Wade…”

“No, no. I don’t need any fucking lectures.”

“I’m not lecturing you, I’m just—”

“I needed to kill that guy. He would have plagued millions of fucking others.”

“There could have been other solutions.” Peter’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh, don’t hit me with Colossus’ crap. I don’t need this shit.” Wade moved his hand away from Peter’s completely. Peter frowned deeply.

“I know that the bad guys may be killing others, but they should be placed in jail. Not murdered on the spot, no matter how much they would like to do it to you.” Peter tried to convince.

“Bullshit.” Wade pushed himself off of the couch. “I’m going to bed.”

Peter watched with a downhearted expression as Wade exited the room much faster than he would have liked.

Peter left a couple of hours later. He slipped out from the window, stopped home to grab his things, and headed straight to Ned’s. He knew Ned wasn’t home from Canada just yet, but Peter needed it to look as if Ned _was_ home. It took him a tad longer than usually to actually arrive due to two bullet wounds and the gash on his side, but once he made it, he placed his things down and situated himself down onto one of the steps with a grunt, putting his bruised face into his hands.

He wasn’t really sure how long he was waiting, but eventually, a silver car pulled up, and Happy rolled down the window.

“Oh. Uh—Hey Happy.” Peter smiled weakly.

“Hey, kid. Get in.”

Peter slowly stood, doing his best to make sure it didn’t look like he was in absolute pain. After placing his things in the trunk, he slipped into the backseat, where his eyes had immediately landed on Tony, and his expression fell. He knew he’d have a lot of explaining to do right now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony have a chat, and Peter receives an unexpected message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might not get in a chapter tomorrow, but enjoy this for now! <3

“How was Ned’s?” Tony asked, an eyebrow raised towards Peter. Peter sunk back into the car seat, avoiding Tony’s gaze at all costs as he buckled up his seat belt. The traffic wasn’t too bad, so they’d probably arrive at the compound sooner than later.

“Uh- Fine. Yeah, fine.” He nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Really? That’s good. I should have stopped in. Said hi.” Tony tilted his head, turned towards Peter.

“Oh, you know, I’m really not sure if she’d want—”

“Happy, why don’t we turn this car around? I feel bad about not saying hello.”

“No!” Peter said suddenly, clearing his throat. “I mean—No, uh- Ned had to go somewhere. I told him I didn’t mind waiting on the porch until you got here.” He mumbled, reaching up as he pawed at the nape of his neck anxiously. “So, he’s, uhm— He’s not home.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I know he’s not home. I called his mother. We had a lovely chat. She said she’s been in Canada for over a week now with Ned. Isn’t that lovely? Did you somehow drive or fly to Canada and come back just in time to sit on his steps? Because obviously, you weren’t at Ned’s.”

Peter eventually glanced over at Tony. Tony wasn’t very happy with him. He sighed. “I’m sorry.” He said, voice near-silent, and vulnerable.

“Damn well should be. Why didn’t you just call me, Pete? I mean, where have you even been staying?” He asked.

“Aunt May’s. I swear, I stayed at the apartment for most of the week.”

Tony pondered for a moment. “Most? What’s most?”

“Uhm…” Peter shifted in his spot uncomfortably. “You know… Like… Three-fourths of the week. But that’s most, right?”

Tony huffed a bit. “Where did you stay for one-fourth of the week, then, hm?”

Peter bit down onto his bottom lip. He could never tell him about Wade. “Uh… Michelle’s.”

He scoffed gently. “And I’m assuming she’s the one that gave you that bruise.” Tony gestured towards his eye.

Peter shrugged, on edge. “I fell.”

“You _fell._ ” Tony sighed. “Alright, listen, I don’t want you leaving the compound. You’re going to stay right where you are, inside.”

“But Spider-Man—”

“Can wait a few days for his aunt to get better.” Tony said. That silenced Peter for now. “I mean it, Pete. I don’t like the idea of you moving around the city, alone for starters—”

“I’m almost eighteen.” Peter said, his voice splitting nearly into a whine. “I’m not a kid anymore, Mr. Stark. I can take care of myself. I’m sorry I didn’t call you, but really, I just… I was afraid to.”

“Afraid to? Why? Did you think I would leave you like that? Especially at times like these?”

Happy slammed the brakes and pressed a fist to the wheel. “Watch the road, assh—”

Tony pulled the window shut between the front and the back seat. His eyes returned to Peter.

“I just—I didn’t want to bother you, you know.” Peter murmured. He hadn’t realized the build-up of stress that had been placed on his shoulders, because his eyes and chest started to feel heavy. “And Aunt May—She was really sick, you know? I just… I couldn’t bother you, especially because you have a lot on your plate, too, sometimes.”

Tony’s expression had softened considerably towards Peter as he looked over at him. “Kid…”

“I’m not a kid. Why does everyone keep calling me that?” He reached up and scrubbed at his eyes in exhaustion. Before he could remove his hands from his eyes, he felt a gentle hand squeeze his shoulder.

Tony sighed. “All right.” He sat up in his car seat and shifted over. 

Peter blinked. “What are you—”

Suddenly, Peter was pressed against the soft fabric material of Tony’s blazer and was greeted with a vague scent of alcohol an expensive cologne. Tony’s arms had wrapped around Peter’s frame, pulling him in for a hug. Peter wasn’t used to the affection. For a moment, he had no idea how to react, simply brushed up against Tony’s neck and shoulders. Slowly, however, Peter felt his face grow hot as his eyes spilt salted tears, and his face buried completely into Tony with a broken frown and fatigued expression.

“It’s okay, Pete.” Tony whispered. His hand moved up to rest against Peter’s head, cradling the back of it. “You’re going to be okay.”

Peter had his eyes squeezed shut, but some of the tears still managed to escape. “Is Aunt May going to die?”

“No.” Tony shook his head, his other hand soothing up and down Peter’s back. “Don’t think about that. She’s going to be okay, too. No matter what happens.”

Peter sighed, his arms looped around Tony’s neck, gripping into the fabric of his blazer and overcoat. He didn’t care about the burn in his side from his stitched wound or the ache in his legs. Peter doesn’t remember the last time he’s hugged Tony. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t think he has at all. It was hard, not growing up with your parents. Peter loved Aunt May with entirety of his heart and soul, but not having a father figure had taken a bit of a toll on Peter. Usually, Peter never complained – Some kids don’t even have anyone to look after them, and he should be more than thankful that Aunt May has been with him since the start. But this was nice. And Peter was sure he’d never want it any other way.

He didn’t want to pull away, and it wasn’t one of those hugs where it was growing too long and was started to be considered awkward. But he did pull away, and Tony thumbed away his tears and patted his back gently, and when they both settled back into their seats, Peter’s eyes moved right out the window. Tony had calmed him down by a lot, and he was starting to realize he should have called Tony the day the nurses had instructed him to.

Now that he had time to think, however, he couldn’t keep his thoughts off of Wade. He knew that Wade probably wouldn’t sleep, and he felt almost horrible about the thought of Wade stepping out into the living room to find the couch empty and the apartment vacated. Maybe he shouldn’t have been as forward. Peter simply couldn’t grasp the idea, seeing as murder came so easily from Wade’s fingertips. He reached up and rubbed at the corner of his eye with his knuckle, bringing his jacket closer to his body. He wasn’t sure why, but a part of him inside most definitely missed Wade. He’s met him twice in the span of a week, and he was evidently curious to know more about the man and his most likely horrifying past. Something about Wade made Peter want to open up like a book, and quite frankly, it was starting to overwhelm him.

Peter was wondering if Wade would listen. He already had a decent image of what Wade was like most of the time – He really enjoyed cursing, probably owned more guns than the average SWAT team member, and although he didn’t show it, was willing to help out others who he’s taken a liking to. Or perhaps, those who have taken a liking to him. Peter’s shoulder was rested against the car seat, arm propped up slightly as he fiddled with the strands of soft brown hair at the top of his head.

Opening up to Wade, for Peter, would be similar to trusting someone with his life. He didn’t know very much about his parents. He’s seen pictures of Aunt May, small panoramas or polaroids of them grinning in front of a Christmas tree or grasping champagne glasses in bridesmaid dresses at a wedding. All he was aware of was that they had left, and Aunt May knew as little as Peter had.

Or at least, he hoped.

He had fallen asleep over the course of the drive and was gently shaken awake when they arrived at the compound. It was dark by this time, and Peter realized that as he exited the car, he’d have to prevent any limp possible in order to keep the gunshot explanations out of the question. He had stood there for a minute, so much so until he had also realized that Tony was staring at him.

“You comin’, Pete?” Tony raised an eyebrow. Happy was already carrying his bags in.

“Huh? Oh… Uh, yeah.” He shut the car door, and took a slow step forward, his jaw tightening at the flare of pain through his legs. He shouldn’t be walking right now. He really wanted to go back into the car and sleep for the rest of the night.

Tony tilted his head, and Peter took another step forward, grunting a bit. He reached out and grasped Tony’s shoulder absentmindedly.

“Okay, what happened?” Tony squinted, trying to search for any wounds on Peter’s body, but Peter had covered himself up quite a bit. He didn’t recognize the clothes he had on, and now that Tony had a good look, the clothes Peter had on were a bit too big. Cotton sweatpants and a comfortable gray sweatshirt, but definitely not something Peter would wear. Peter was the graphic-tee and jeans type, with maybe a jean-jacket-sweatshirt combo. “Is there something you aren’t telling me?”

“What? No.” Peter took another step forward, but his grip on Tony tightened.

“Let’s get you inside. When we sit down, you’re going to tell me what happened and why you can barely walk to the front door.”

It was a bit of a struggle to have Peter guided in, but eventually, Vision had come out. It was a bit of a surprise to see him, seeing as Peter hadn’t spoken to him since the breakup of the Avengers. It was weird to think of that as two years ago. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen anyone since then, except Tony.

“Who else is here?” Peter asked with a slight groan as Vision set him down onto the couch. He thanked him quietly.

Tony glanced at Peter. “Not important. You’ll see everyone later.” He took a seat next to him.

Peter breathed out. “Mr. Stark…”

“Why are you limping?”

Peter shrugged a little bit. “I got hurt.”

“You got hurt. Elaborate. Enlighten me.”

"I got shot."

“You got _what? _”__

__"Twice."_ _

__"Sorry?"_ _

____

“Really, I’m fine, Mr. Stark. I mean, I just have a small gash on my side—” 

“Vision, grab me some Aspirin. Where did you get shot?” Tony insisted, grasping Peter’s arms and searching for the wounds. 

Peter drew his arm back. “Mr. Stark…” 

“Show me. Is it your arms? Your chest?” 

“My leg.” Peter frowned, shifting from Tony slightly. “I’m really okay. Someone patched me up.” He blinked. Well, shit. He should have said he patched himself up instead. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s just dandy. Who patched you up?” Tony asked, rolling up Peter’s sweatpants’ cuff, and when he reached the bandage, he rolled up the pants to his knee. It was actually patched up rather uniformly. “Did you go to the hospital?” 

“No, no, just—A friend did it.” Peter murmured, biting down onto his bottom lip when Tony’s knuckles brushed the bandages while he was rolling up his pants’ legs. 

“A friend, huh? Ned’s outta town, and you told me he’s the only one who knows you’re Spider-Man.” Tony interrogated. 

Peter huffed. “I said I’m fine. I mean, I’m all good, right? So we don’t have to worry about this—” 

“What the hell is going on?” Natasha stepped into the entrance of the living room, and when her eyes landed on Peter, her expression softened immediately. She was in a black tank top and a pair of pajama pants. Well, there’s _one_ person to cross off his list as to who was here. Peter wondered who else. 

“Your Aspirin, Mr. Stark.” Vision handed him the small plastic bottle. 

“Jesus, Vis, how many times have I told you, call me Tony.” Tony placed the bottle aside for now, slowly rolling down Peter’s sweatpants’ leg. “Pete, where else were you shot?” 

“He was _shot?_ ” Natasha stepped into the room with furrowed brows, arms crossed against her chest. 

“It appears as if he’s also suffered a small bullet wound on his upper thigh. It’s best if he’s left to rest in order for it to heal.” Vision spoke neutrally. 

Peter sighed, pressing himself back into the couch. As much as he admired superheroes, he really wished he was back home in his own bed. 

__

__

“Who shot you, Peter?” Natasha stepped in front of the couch, eyeing the teenager up and down with a concerned expression. 

“Just some guys.” Peter mumbled. “I’m fine. Some guy would have gotten his stuff stolen, or even killed, if I hadn’t stepped in. It’s a small price to pay for someone else’s life.” He shrugged a bit, glancing between the three of them with a frustrated expression. 

Peter had definitely matured over the years. Sure, he was still dorky and playful, and most definitely into science, but… Although he’s always been selfless, he’s grown used to giving himself up for others. 

Broken from the conversation, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished into the sweatpants and pulled out his phone, blinking at the unknown number’s message sprawled across the screen. 

_Hello, sweetums. That was really gross. Sorry, just trying it out. It’s Pool. You’re probably going to ask how I got your number. It wasn’t hard. I really like the internet for that. Well, for a lot of things, I’m sure you know. Anyway. I don’t really do this often, but I’m sorry that I yelled. I’m kind of a fuck face. There’s a lot of things I’m sorry about, but maybe we should talk in person, if you’re still willing to face Sméagol. I won’t wear the mask._

“Who’s that?” Tony glanced at Peter’s phone. 

“Huh?” He looked up. “No one. Just Ned.” 

He looked back down at his phone, and typed, 

_Peter : Can you meet me tomorrow? Early?_

It wasn’t long before he received another text. 

_Wade : Let me know where. I’ll be there._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds out more about Tony than he expected.

Peter lay on his back idly, eyes staring up at the ceiling in quiet thought. He had changed into a comfortable pair of pajamas and they had replaced the bandages on his wounds, and for now, he was told to rest and remain in bed for the next couple of days. He had plans to meet Wade tomorrow, and he would figure something out, but for now, he was left with his own mind. Sometimes, that wasn’t the worst thing. He felt sore, and though his injuries did heal a tad bit faster than the average person, gunshot wounds were a different story.

It was late now, the sun having already set. He was tempted to reach over and turn off the lamp, but the doorknob clicked, and when Peter turned his head towards the door, Tony was poking his head in.

“Hey, Pete.”

“Hi, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly. He moved to sit up just a little bit, bringing a pillow behind his back to rest comfortably against the bed frame. “Listen, I’m really sorry—”

“Nope. No apologies. I don’t wanna hear it.” Tony said. “Someone else is here to talk to you.”

Peter blinked. “Someone else? Who would want t—”

Before he was aware of it, Steve Rogers stepped into the room. A bearded face and longer hair, obviously hardened from war, and most likely loss. The corner of Peter’s lips pulled into a small smile. “Oh, uh—Cap—Captain…”

“Steve is fine.” He spoke, voice as gentle as it usually was, yet it held an unspoken firmness. His teeth were somewhat evident between his lips, a flash of pearly white.

“How long have you been here?” Peter asked, looking between Tony and Steve.

Steve moved to take a seat at the edge of the bed. Tony stood a foot or so away from it, his feet pacing him just slightly. It was a nervous habit. “I come and go. We agreed to keep tabs on one another. It’s the best thing to do. I know we’ve had many disagreements amongst the Avengers, but… It doesn’t mean we still shouldn’t look out for one another.”

Peter nodded a bit, resting his hands in his lap.

“What he’s trying to say, kid—” Tony stopped himself for a moment, finding Peter’s eyes, “ _Peter,_ is that you’re one of us. You’re part of the family.”

Peter had to take a couple of seconds to process the word _family._ It made his chest swarm delightfully and his smile grow, and he was pretty sure that he looked like an absolute idiot at the moment. “Thanks, guys.” He asked. “I mean it. I should have called you.” He was looking at Tony now.

“You should have. But the important part is that you’re alive. You should never be afraid to ask for help. Seriously, especially if you’re going to take on six armed men who are probably twice the size of you.” Tony pointed out. 

Peter sighed a bit, nodding in understanding. “I will. I promise I will next time.” He said, looking back over at Steve. “You guys are really great. I don’t really deserve any of this.”

“You’re too humble for your own good.” Tony placed an arm on Peter’s shoulder, taking a seat on the other side of him. “And you deserve every bit of it.” He said, moving his hand down to Peter’s shoulder blades for a moment. “But you can’t keep secrets from us all of the time, Pete.” He explained. “It’s not good.”

Peter’s expression fell slightly. “I’m not—keeping any secrets…”

“And I know you’re lying.” Tony spoke gently, tilting his head. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again. You showed up with two bullet wounds in your legs. Next time I see you, what if that one is in your head?” He said.

“Tony…” Steve glanced at the other men, turning his eyes towards Peter, who had now met his eyes. “What he’s trying to say is that you shouldn’t be afraid to talk to us about anything, especially if it’s been bothering you a lot.”

“Show off.” Tony murmured, which brought a near-hidden smile to his lips.

Peter did feel a bit bad, not telling Tony everything. But how could he? _Hey, I might have spent a night or two at someone’s house who’s twice my age and eight times as dangerous – And by the way, I can’t stop thinking about him._

“I… I’m not sure if I’m ready to tell you.” Peter said, half-making up an excuse.

“And that’s okay.” Steve cut in, glancing at Tony before he would say anything irrational. But Tony looked at Peter with the same thought process. “You should take your time.”

Peter smiled gently again. “You guys are the best.” He said. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

“Good.” Tony moved to stand. “Let’s watch a movie.”

And so they did.

It was a relatively large bed, so the three of them could squeeze in to watch a movie on the flatscreen, but eventually, Nat had poked her head into the room and squeezed in as well. 

“What’s this?” She asked, tucking herself behind Steve as she peered over at the screen.

“Jurassic Park. Seriously, Romanov? Dinosaurs and safari outfits. Do you live in a shell?” Tony complained.

“I’ve never seen this.” Steve pointed out, glancing at Tony.

“You’re, like, a hundred years old. You have an excuse.” He murmured, though his eyes didn’t move off of the television screen.

Eventually, Peter had drifted off to sleep. When he had woken up, Tony’s face was in his hair and Steve’s back was pressed up against Peter’s arm. Natasha was gone, most likely back within her own bed.

He smiled a bit as he took in his surroundings. It took a hell of a lot to get up without waking them, but once it was accomplished, he had waited a minute or to since his feet had fallen asleep. He moved a couple of steps, and although he did feel sore, his wounds did feel a bit better.

The kitchen was empty, and he burrowed his hand into his pockets to pull out his phone as he slid into one of the stools on the island counter. He must have fallen asleep with it on him. He had a couple of texts from Wade, and it made him almost anxious. As he read them over, however, it brought an easy smile to Peter’s lips.

_Wade : Completely random, but a small shred of your suit was left here. Just a flake or so._

_Wade : I’m going to frame this._

_Wade : That’s blood. Nevermind._

_Wade : When are we meeting tomorrow? What do I even wear? Also, I’m going to need my clothes back. I think I have maybe one or two more pairs._

_Wade : Just checked. I only have one._

_Wade : Well, fuck._

Peter ran a hand through his hair. He had completely forgotten about his suit. He would have to fix it up, maybe later, when Tony was in his own room and Peter was left to do his own thinks.

He sent Wade a text back.

_Peter : Hi, Wade. Sorry. Got caught up in some stuff yesterday. I wish I could have told you more details about meeting up. Right now, I’m at the compound with Tony Stark, so if we’re going to meet, I’ll have to sneak out of here somehow. I can’t go too far, seeing as I’m still technically healing. I’ll make up an excuse. Can you meet me in an hour?_

“Morning.” Natasha mumbled as she stepped into the kitchen. She was still in her pajamas from the night before, but her short red curls were brushed back behind her ears. It was much shorter than when Peter had seen her two years ago. She had spoken to Tony last night while they were watching the movie that she wanted to dye it a different color. She was greeted with eager hushes in order for him to pay attention to the movie – And solely the movie. “Are the two lovebirds still sleeping?” She headed over to the coffee machine to turn it on and have it started. 

Peter tilted his head. “Lovebirds?”

Natasha smiled a bit, almost knowingly. “Tony and Steve.” She pointed out.

“They—” Peter blinked, somewhat shocked. “You mean they…?”

“I see them sneaking around. Steve looks like a lost child who doesn’t want to break the rules when they do it. It’s quite funny.” She rested her back against the counter, rubbing at the corners of her eyes tiredly.

Peter rested his chin in his palm, elbow propped up on the counter. “I never would have guessed.”

“Really?” She rose a brow, smiling a bit. “I don’t know. I thought the sexual tension has been obvious for years.” She said, turning towards the coffee pot as the coffee began to be made.

Peter was really unsure what to do with this information. To be truthful, he was a bit hesitant on talking to Tony about Wade – Let alone liking a _guy_. Peter wondered if that was even it. Maybe he just liked how Wade did whatever he liked and didn’t let anyone give him shit for it. Sure, Peter had become more careless of the rules as years went on, but… He still followed pretty much everything that needed to be followed. His phone buzzing on the counter surface had broken him from his thoughts, and he glanced down at the text from Wade.

_Wade : An hour it is. Send me a location and I’ll be there._

Peter smiled a bit as he shut off his phone. “Y’know, I should probably go check my bandages. I’ll be back.” He said. Natasha gave him a small nod, to which he exited the kitchen and made his way back to his bedroom. He had plans to sneak into his bedroom quick before Tony and Steve had woken up, but they had beaten him to it. He heard them speaking inside of the bedroom, and so he leaned himself against the wall outside, listening in.

“I don’t know, Tony. That’s a big responsibility.” Steve’s voice rang softly.

“I know it is. But if worst comes to worst—”

“I know what you’re saying. And it’s a good idea. A really good idea. I just want to make sure you’ll be able to handle it.”

“I’ve known the kid for two years.” Tony said. “He means a lot to me. Hell, I’d have him living here every day if I could.”

Steve sighed. “And you’re saying…?”

“That if May _does_ pass away…” Tony paused, hating the possibility of Peter losing his aunt, “I’ll be willing to adopt Peter as soon as it happens. I want to be there for him.”

Peter blinked as he listened into the conversation, a mix of emotions swirling within his chest and mind. _Adopt him?_ Tony would be willing to take him in just like that? That’s where the happiness came in. But… To be thinking about Aunt May passing away as well? Sure, the possibilities were supposed to be expected, but Peter didn’t want to think about it. If anything, he hoped for the best.

Instead of stepping into his room, Peter headed down the hall, grabbed his shoes and exited the building with a frown and the start of a headache. He shot Wade a text on his way out.

_Peter : I’m heading out now. Meet me for breakfast here._

He sent him the location and started to walk.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Wade have breakfast together. The conversation goes much deeper than planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this chapter. It is rather short, probably one of my shortest ones when it comes to length, but there's a lot to take in. I didn't want to place too much at once. More to come this weekend! <3

Peter had never been one to enjoy the taste of coffee, if he was going to be completely honest. But having the aroma of coffee flood his nose, with a scent that would most likely envelope the fabric of his clothes, wasn’t half bad. Wade hadn’t arrived when Peter stepped in, still in his pajamas ( another graphic t-shirt and plaid pajama pants ), though the waitress showed him to a table for two. It was situated near the back, under the warmth of the artificial light, casting a yellow ochre glisten to his tired features, nearly similar to golden hour. He had ordered a hot chocolate, the rounded metal of his spoon clinking against the walls of the ceramic mug, occasionally taking a sip of his hot beverage. Delightful chatter was blended perfectly around him, and a nearby couple could be spotted holding hands underneath the table, while smiling at one another from across the table. His chin was rested on his crossed forearms, where he had them propped up on the table, eyeing the steam rise from his mug.

“Oh, don’t look all too sad. I didn’t stand you up.” Wade took a seat in the booth across from Peter. He had a hood over his head, and he gave Peter a soft smile.

Peter sat up a bit, and he returned the gentle grin. “Oh—Uh… Hey, Wade.” He said.

“Your bullet wounds get any better? I gotta say, I did a darn good fucking job patching you up. Usually I don’t have to patch myself up, since I heal automatically.” Wade leaned back in his seat, grasping one of the menus from the table as his eyes searched over it curiously.

Peter blinked. “They heal _right away?_ ”

Wade looked over the menu, beaming. “Well, of course. I’ve gotten shot through the wrist once. Veins, skin and bone. Gone, but back in an instant. I still feel the pain when I get shot or stabbed, and everything. It sucks, but whatever Fuck-Face Francis did to me, it worked.” He huffed. “Well… All except…” He waved his hand around his facial features, which were primarily hidden by the hood.

“The guy you shot?” Peter asked quietly. He had no intention to start an argument once more, especially when they were okay now.

Wade sighed, and he nodded. “Yeah. I thought he might be able to fix this shit, somehow, but… No cure.” He shrugged a bit.

“Well, you don’t need a cure.” Peter murmured, slumping back into his seat.

“I _do_ miss my looks. My youthful face and honey-smooth ass.” Wade teased a bit now, which brought a small smile to Peter’s lips.

“Well, we don’t have to focus on that right now. We can’t change the past, as much as we may want to.” Peter sighed.

The waitress came around with a lazy expression. Her eyelids were half-closed, and her hair was tied back into a bit of a messy bun, pen and pad in hand. “What can I get for you guys?”

Wade spoke up first. “Chocolate chip pancakes, four stacked. If you guys have whip cream, bring it out. I’m also going to need an order of home fries and bacon. Extra crispy. I also need coffee.” He said, avoiding the waitress’s eyes. She gave him a bit of a look, slowly turning towards Peter.

“Uh—Can I have blueberry pancakes?” He smiled up at her. She gave him a small nod, sent Wade one more glare, and turned on her heel to head to the kitchen. He glanced at the other man. “I see you’re hungry.”

“Oh, just a little.” Wade waved him off, adjusting his hood a bit as he looked over at Peter. “Anyway… How’s the ‘compound’?”

Peter glanced to Wade, breathing in a bit. He had a lot to tell him. And as much as he kept stuff from Tony, he had this unspoken need to vent to Wade. And maybe, this time he would. He shifted a bit upon the leather of the booth seat, bringing a couple of fingers through his morning hair. “Well, it’s… Different. Bigger. And I’m sharing it with all of the Avengers. Well, most. I’m not really sure who’s there right now.” He sighed. He wasn’t even sure if he should be sharing this.

Wade rose an eyebrow. “You seem disappointed about that.”

“No, no, I’m not.” Peter said. “I’m really grateful that Tony has been so generous to give me a place to stay, and all that. But…” He ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t explained the entire Aunt May situation to Wade. Wade and he didn’t even really _know_ each other. Peter was glad the two of them just kind of clicked. “Last week, my aunt was diagnosed with cancer.” He explained, glancing up at Wade. He wasn’t sure why, but Wade’s expression had softened almost immediately. He wasn’t certain if it was because he was pitying him or simply being empathetic. Either way, Peter continued to speak. “That’s why you found me on the streets the first few nights. I was supposed to talk to Tony about letting me stay with him, but… I decided against it. In the end, I went back to my own apartment, but… Even that made me real sad.” Peter admitted. “I was used to Aunt May coming home. Maybe she’d take me out for Thai food, or we’d watch a movie in the living room. Either way, it was starting to grow lonely being there. I had to distract myself, somehow. I did the schoolwork I missed, since I missed a day or two before break.” He explained. He was starting to open up, and there was no going back now. His chest felt wide and his stomach was fluttering with Pieridae butterflies, unable to catch them or keep them in place.

Peter exhaled, before he continued. “Point is, I miss her a lot. I visited her a couple of times, and I call her almost every day, but… She’s so weak over the phone. Her voice is so small.” He frowned, the corners of his lips tightening downwards. His hands were rested in his lap, fumbling and twitching uncomfortably. He felt so vulnerable. He didn’t know how to act. “And when I see her in person, she’s so… Frail. The doctors say they’re not sure what’s going to happen, but I just… I really don’t wanna lose her, you know? I would not be able to _function_ if I lose her. She’s all I’ve had since I was a kid. My parents are a lost story. She’s been there since the beginning.” He murmured. “And it’s really nice, you know? Having Tony here for me is all I could ever ask for, and everyone at the compound is real nice to me, too, but… But Tony wants to adopt me.” Peter placed his face into his hands, trying to fight the return of hot, salted tears to his eyelids. He pulled away, eyes blood shot and red, and he wasn’t sure where all of these words were coming from, but he continued. “And—And I’m really glad that he does. There’s nothing more I’d ever want than to be able to call Tony my dad. He’s helped me a lot through these past few years, and he’s saved my life before as well. If anything, Tony’s been nothing _but_ a father to me. But—But how can he just think of Aunt May passing away? I mean, just like that, he thinks the adoption papers need to come ‘in handy’? It’s not like anyone else would _want_ to adopt me if Aunt May died.” He said, rubbing vigorously at his eyes. Wade took advantage of the pause to speak up.

“Maybe he wants to prevent you from entering the foster system.” Wade rose a brow.

Peter breathed out, nodding. He suddenly felt regretful for being so angry. He didn’t remember the last time he’s felt this enraged, this upset. He didn’t like to cry in front of people, either – But Aunt May had always told him that it was okay to do so. That you should be proud of who you were, and crying was _healthy_ when you were sad, boys and girls alike. He shut his eyelids, watered saline rushing down the paleness of his cheeks, just evident in taste as it seeped to the corner of his lips. He suddenly felt dehydrated. He felt Wade’s ankle loop around his under the table, noting that Wade had done so to the leg that didn’t have the bullet wound on his shin. Sniffling a bit, he grabbed one of the napkins from the table, and awkwardly blew his nose into the paper towelettes.

“I was diagnosed with cancer, you know.” Wade pointed out, glancing up at Peter. Soft brown eyes gazed at Wade in slight disbelief, but Wade nodded to reaffirm his words. “And I don’t want to make this about me. Obviously, you’ve been through a shit ton in the past week. But… There’s always some form of hope in the future. Don’t take too much shit from me – I’m a pessimistic scumbag. But there is. I was terminally ill. I thought I’d die within that year. No, coming across Francis didn’t save my life. Potentially, my life was ruined, seeing as I’m nothing more than a deformed test subject. But the cancer can’t kill me. I’m… nearly immortal. And it’s scary as shit. Maybe I’m not actually going anywhere with this, or maybe I am. Point is, you can’t give up so easy. Because then you end up like me. And you don’t want to do that.” Wade leaned back in his seat.

Peter nibbled on his bottom lip in thought, sniffling once more as he pawed away at his tears with his sleeves. “Maybe—Maybe Aunt May can do what you did—”

“No.” Wade said firmly, and instantaneously. “What I was put through was absolute _torture_. The literal, fucking definition of it. Let your aunt stick with the good guy stuff – Chemotherapy and, well, whatever they can do to prevent it from spreading.”

Peter nodded a little bit. “Okay.” He murmured. “Thanks, Wade.”

Wade gave him a gentle smile. “Course. I’m doin’ it for you.”

Peter huffed a bit. “But why?”

“Cause you’re pretty darn cute.” Wade commented, bringing Peter’s hot chocolate mug over to take a sip.

Peter felt his face heat up per usual around Wade, yet he rolled his eyes in response. “Wade…”

“Okay, okay.” Wade held his hands up just a bit, defensively. They dropped back down to his lap eventually. “Just cause I’ve fucked up a lot of past relationships I’ve had with people. I’ve lost family, friends. Lovers.” He sighed. “I don’t want to mess anything up this time.” He admitted. “So, I’m trying to fix the things that I need to in order to keep these relationships stable.” He shrugged.

“Well, I’m not going to leave you.” Peter pointed out.

“That’s what they all say.” Wade replied.

He pushed Peter’s hot chocolate towards him, settling back into his seat as the waitress returned to their table, and set down their plates. Wade’s mass of food in front of him, and Peter’s small stack of blueberry pancakes in front of him. Peter thanked her quietly as she walked back to the kitchen, and the two of them ate in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was focusing on the story line of my fanfiction. For all of you who don't know, this takes two years after the occurrences of Civil War, or even a little bit over two years. The first thing I want to address is that Peter is 17. In New York, this is the legal age of consent. Someone had approached me with this very politely and asked as to why the 'Underage' tag is placed in the Archive Warnings - I simply placed it there for anyone who is uncomfortable with the age gap. I don't plan to have Wade or Peter establish an official relationship until Peter is 18+, seeing as this is a slowburn fic, and I would enjoy their romance to take time. There's a lot of things I'd like to cover as well before the actual relationship, but those will come soon enough. The second thing I wanted to address was, again, the time frame. Because it takes place two years after Civil War, this means the start of Infinity War is just around the same time. I was curious towards your opinion as to if you'd like me to incorporate Infinity War into this fic with Wade, or perhaps continue to carry one with my own plot. I am still brainstorming my own ideas, but feed back is most definitely appreciated.
> 
> Thanks guys!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter bonds with Tony, but tells him something he probably shouldn’t have.

Peter held the door open for Wade as they stepped out of the diner. He zipped up his winter coat a bit, and slowly looked up at Wade as they stood in front. “I should probably head back to the compound. Tony will be waking up soon.” He exhaled, chin tilted up at Wade with a small smile. “Thanks for meeting me.” He reached up, scrubbing the back of his neck. The skin on the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks were illuminating a rosy pink from the cold weather.

Wade feigned disappointment teasingly. “You can’t stay a _little_ bit longer?” He asked, sending Peter a pair of persuading eyes.

The corner of Peter’s lips pulled into a small smile. “Wade…”

“Come on. We could go for a walk. Have you ever had chimichangas? We could eat them for lunch.” He offered. He figured he’d pick a light topic for their next conversation, seeing as their last one was the complete opposite of it.

“You don’t seem one for a ‘calm’ walk.” Peter pointed out, though he was already starting down the block.

“Does this mean we’re walking?” Wade placed himself into step with Peter.

“Just for a couple of blocks. Then I have to take the turn to get to the compound. You’re towards the other direction.” Peter rose a brow, smiling over at Wade.

Wade grumbled a bit. “Well, what if I walk _with_ you to the compound?”

“No.” Peter shook his head immediately. “No, no, no. Bad idea. Actually, that’s the worst idea.” He protested.

“I was only kidding.” Wade beamed, briefly placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter didn’t want him to remove it, but Wade’s hand dropped back to his side, and eventually, Wade shoved his hands into pockets to shield them from the cold. “I think bringing me to the compound would be completely destructive.” Wade thought for a moment. “Actually, that’d be really fucking fun. I should come home with you.”

“Come on, Wade, don’t play like that.” Peter laughed, though there was a hint of nervousness to his tone. “Tony… would have a heart attack if I brought you home.”

Wade rose a brow.

“Wait—No, I mean—Not _bring_ you home, like when people, you know, well, _you know_ , but bring you home in the literal sense.” Peter rambled, breathing in a bit. “Like, when—”

Wade chuckled, turning towards Peter as they crossed the street. “I know what you’re saying.” He said. “I’m a bit of an embarrassment, I know.”

Peter shook his head. “No! No, of course not—I mean, Tony would love to meet my f-” He cleared his throat, “Friend. To see that I have friends. But—”

“But?” Wade tilted his head a bit as they continued to walk. He still had his hood up.

“I just… Don’t know if that’s a good idea.” Peter said, swallowing a bit. He wasn’t sure how to explain it without explaining _it._ He wasn’t even sure what _it_ was. Wade was… older. Peter wasn’t sure how old, but he had a young voice, and a youthful, wild look to his eyes. But it wasn’t positive. It was almost as if Wade had a lot to his story behind his deep, murky pupils. Peter figured he had only heard the beginning of it inside of the diner. What was he even supposed to say to Wade? _Oh, yeah, I’m embarrassed to bring you home so Tony could see our nonexistent relationship. I’m not even sure if I feel this way about you, and I’m pretty sure what I feel is completely wrong, and I don’t even know if you feel this way about me, but hey, points for trying!_

Wade nibbled on the inside of his cheek. He shouldn’t be acting disappointed or hurt. It was completely understandable why Peter wouldn’t want to have him around the others. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t even be allowed in, anyway. He shrugged a bit. “Yeah. Don’t worry. I kind of want to go home, anyway. I miss Blind Al.” He sighed dramatically, and simulated a false yet content one, almost to act unbothered.

Peter could read right through Wade’s façade. He exhaled. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you again.” He gave Wade a small smile. “You saved my life. Maybe I can try and get Tony to allow you to come over.” He said. “Especially if I, you know, tell him that.”

“Ooh, a playdate. I can’t wait.” Wade half teased, stopping at the corner where they would part.

Peter’s smile widened a bit more. “So I’ll… text you later?” He asked. God, he sounded like an excited high school freshman talking to their crush.

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” Wade said. He was tempted to step forward and give Peter a hug, but instead he said goodbye with a playful grin, and turned to head back home, or wherever it is Wade might be adventuring to. Peter could only wonder.

;

Peter stepped inside the doors of the compound with a small shiver. He shrugged off his winter coat and stepped down the hallway, but as soon as he entered the kitchen, Tony, Nat and Steve were sitting at the table, Tony obviously about to have a breakdown. He turned towards Peter when he stepped in, and Peter stood their awkwardly, already trying to think of excuses. He would have expected Tony to lash out towards him judging by the flare in his eyes, but after Tony exhaled, he spoke calmly towards the teenager.

“Where were you?” Tony asked, looking directly at him.

Peter swallowed a bit. “I was—”

“No excuses.” Tony said before he could finish.

Peter looked around at Natasha and Steve. They didn’t look disappointed. Mostly concerned, and curious. His eyes settled back down onto Tony.

“I was at a diner.” Peter said truthfully, stepping into the kitchen, and moving to take a seat at the table. Tony’s eyes never peeled from him.

“You have two gunshot wounds and a large cut just underneath your ribs. You were supposed to stay here and _rest_. Now tell me the truth.” Tony said.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed. “I am telling you the truth. I went to a diner to get breakfast.”

“And I’m sure Ned was there with you this time.” Tony said, tone blatantly sarcastic.

“No.” Peter leaned back in his chair. “My other friend was.” His voice held a certain reluctance to it.

“Oh, right. Of course. Your friend. Who was it this time? Michelle?” Tony asked.

“Tony.” Natasha leaned forward in her seat a bit. “Relax.”

“No, really, I’d like to know who you were with. Enlighten me.” Tony was standing, gripping the back of one of the chairs at the table.

“I told you I was with a friend.” Peter said.

“And I told you that you were supposed to stay here.” Tony spoke firmly.

“Why are you treating me like a kid? I’m turning eighteen in a couple of months. You can’t just speak to me like that—”

“Until Aunt May is out of the hospital, you are under _my_ watch—”

“I don’t need to be under anyone’s watch. You’re not my father.” Peter spoke suddenly, and the room had fallen silent. He immediately felt a heavy wave of guilt wash through his blood and veins once he spoke, especially when he recalled Tony’s plans of adopting him. Peter quickly looked down, the awkwardness within the room thickening quite a bit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I really shouldn’t have—”

“No, you’re right.” Tony said, turning away as he started out of the kitchen. “I’m just—I’m going down to the workshop.” He said, already half way out of the room as he spoke.

It was noiseless, until Rogers made the first move.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Steve stood. He placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly, before he exited the room soon after him.

Peter looked over at Natasha. Her expression was neutral, but her eyes were soft. “I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out.” He sunk back in his chair sheepishly.

Natasha gave him a soft smile. She was in different clothes now. She looked much more professional without pajamas on, but the Black Widow managed to pull off any outfit. It was nothing fancy. Casual clothing. “It’s okay. We’ve all done and said things that we regret.” She stood from her seat and slid into the spot next to him. “You have a lot on your shoulders right now, as does Tony. And he cares about you. You two should just take your time to figure things out.” She said.

“Yeah.” Peter murmured quietly.

“Do you want to talk about anything?” Natasha looked over at him.

Peter shook his head. He only wanted to talk to Wade.

“You sure?” She leaned back in her chair. “I never really spoke about anything growing up, going through the stuff I went through. I know it would have helped.” She said.

Peter shook his head again. “I’m okay.” He said.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I believe you. Usually when you lie, you get nervous. You were pretty stable there.” She smiled a bit.

“How would you know?” Peter asked gently, no sign of sarcasm in his words.

“Tony talks to me about you a lot.” She said softly. “On a lighter note, it’s good that you got out. But it’d be better if you would stay here. You’re right. You are an adult. But if anything happens, specifically with Aunt May, they’re going to call Tony first. We’re not trying to keep you on lockdown, but… The next time you go out, we want you to let us know, alright?” Natasha asked kindly. “It just makes Tony feel safer. Less panicky.”

Peter nodded a little bit. He hadn’t realized how his brief absences had caused such worry in Tony. “Do you think that… That maybe Tony would let me bring friends over?”

Natasha smiled a bit more. “Yeah, I think so. I mean, I’d imagine it’s a bit stressful around here without anyone your age.” She said.

“What about Wanda?” Peter asked. “I mean… I know we’re not exactly the same age, but… Where’d she go?”

She gave a small shrug. “Vision visits us occasionally, but for the most part he’s with Wanda. They only check in. We try to keep our locations as unknown as possible. This probably isn’t the best place for us to be hiding, but at least no one expects it.” She explained, exhaling. “Steve is supposed to head out some time this week. Everyone else is doing their own thing now.”

Peter nodded once more. He wondered how everyone was adjusting to a somewhat normal lifestyle. He had enjoyed being Spider-Man for these past few years, but… He was starting to want to do more. His suit worked fine, and—

Oh, man. _His suit._

“Uh—Thanks for the talk, Ms. Romanov. I mean it. But, uh—I’m gonna go rest. Thanks again.” He said as he stood up and exited the kitchen as fast as his injured legs could carry him. He went right into the bedroom and zipped up his duffel bag, digging through it to try and find his suit. “Come on, come on…” Peter huffed, suddenly feeling anxious when he was unable to find the shredded costume. He brought his hands up to his face and rubbed over it once, stressfully.

“Looking for this?”

Peter turned around with a panicked expression, though a swift breath of relief flew from his lips when he spotted his suit. It was in perfect condition, no shreds, nor was it covered in blood. Tony, however, was holding it, and Peter had grown quiet.

“I found it in your stuff this morning. Figured I was going to put stuff away for you, but… Well, I didn’t do that. But I fixed the suit.” He held it out towards Peter.

Peter slowly stood up.

Tony looked back at him, still holding out the suit.

In an instant, Peter rushed over as his arms flew around Tony, his eyes squeezing shut as his nose burrowed into Tony’s neck.

“Well, you were supposed to grab the suit, not me, but I guess this works, too.” Tony said softly. Still clutching the suit, Tony hugged Peter back. “Y’know, kid, one hug doesn’t mean infinite amounts.”

“I’m really sorry.” Peter whispered.

“Oh, don’t be sorry. I’m not really dad material, anyway.” Tony half-teased.

Peter pulled back, looking up at Tony. “Don’t say that.” He frowned deeply. “You were just looking out for me. I shouldn’t have snuck out like that. I was just—”

“Afraid?” Tony asked, setting Peter’s suit on the dresser aside, his hands moving to the sides of Peter’s arms.

Peter nodded a little bit.

“Well, I don’t want you to be afraid to talk to me. You seem awfully afraid to say anything to me.” Tony said, finding his eyes. “Maybe it’s because I get angry so easily. Or overprotective.”

“I want you to be.” Peter mumbled. “Not—Not angry. But overprotective.” He smiled a bit. “As a kid, I’ve always… I’ve always wanted that. Aunt May was protective of me, and she cared for me, but… Sometimes I walked into the apartment and hoped that maybe my dad would be there. And he’d yell at me for staying out too late and tell me to go to my room.” He sighed. “It sounds… really silly.” He mumbled sheepishly.

“It isn’t.” Tony smiled, gently gripping Peter’s arms, before he released them. “I would tell you to go to your room, but… It looks as if we’re already in your room.”

Peter grasped his suit, feeling over the material of it. “I’m really sorry I ruined the suit.” He glanced at Tony. “I was going to fix it up. I promise I was.”

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder. “I know you were. But I did it for you.” He said. “And I don’t want you to be afraid anymore.” Tony explained, stepping into the room as he started towards the bed. Peter followed after and took a seat at the edge of it, but Tony remained standing. “Whatever you have to say to me, or want to say to me, I want you to say it. And I can’t force you, but if you know me at all, you’re probably aware I’m the nosiest person you’ll ever meet.”

Peter smiled a little bit at that. He tucked his hands between his knees as he sat, looking up at the other man. “Well, there is… There’s one small thing I want to talk to you about.” He said.

Tony picked up a small glass sculpture he must have placed as display for the guest room they had Peter in. “Oh, yeah? What’s that?”

“Well… About the friend I went to breakfast with.” Peter explained.

Tony smirked a bit. “Oh?” He fumbled with the glass sphere, bringing it from hand to hand. “Do tell. Who’s the pretty lady?”

Peter breathed in a bit. From what Nat’s told him, Tony and Steve were a thing. _Lovebirds_ , as she described it. He wasn’t as nerve wracked as any other kid would be when telling their guardians this. “Boy.” He said bravely.

Tony rose a brow approvingly. “I see. Who’s this boy?”

Peter smiled a little bit more. His expression suddenly mimicked dreaminess. “Well, his name is Wade. Wade Wilson.”

Tony dropped the sculpture in his hand when Peter mentioned the name, and it fell to the floor, shattering beneath his feet.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's not too happy. Peter's not sure he cares.

“ _What?_ ” Tony questioned, taking a step forward, glass crunching underneath his shoes.

Peter gaped up at the other man, clearing his throat. He suddenly felt sweaty and nervous, and extremely self-conscious. “I-I said—”

“I know what you said. I want to know _why_ you are spending time with Wade Wilson.” He spoke sternly, and, yep, the anger was back.

Well, shit. Tony seemed to know exactly who Wade Wilson was, and Peter didn’t like that too much. _Oh God,_ he thought. _I’m never going to be allowed to see Wade again._

“We’re just… friends.” Peter murmured.

“What’s going on?” Steve stepped into the room. He looked between Tony and Peter, and then at the glass behind Tony, scattered along the floor. “Are any of you hurt?”

Peter buried his face in his hands. Of course. Everyone, just come in so Tony could tell the entire world that Peter Parker has a thing for Wade Wilson.

Tony didn’t seem to hear Steve. He had figurative steam blaring from his eardrums. “You better have a good excuse this time.”

“Mr. Stark, nothing happened! He’s just my friend.” Peter insisted.

“Oh, I better hope he’s just your friend.” Tony’s face twisted into more vexation. “Is he the one who shot you?”

“No!” Peter shook his head quickly.

Steve stepped into the room a bit more. “Alright. Why don’t we just take a minu—”

“Steve, as much as I love your problem-solving elephant heart, I really think I need to take this one.” Tony’s eyes were just as fiery towards Steve as it was towards Peter. He looked back over to the teenager and exhaled. “I don’t want you seeing him anymore.”

“We’re _only_ friends. Besides, he's—”

“I don’t care what it is you are, or what he wants you to be to him. You’re not going to see him anymore.” Tony said, unyielding.

Peter huffed. “He saved my life.” He looked over at Steve, pupils sending Cap a desperate beg to help him out, somehow.

“Who did?” Steve asked.

“Wade Wilson.” Tony replied before Peter could speak. His tone was that of slight disgust. “It’s pretty unlikely that _Wade Wilson_ would save anyone. Except himself, maybe.”

“But he did! He patched me up, and everything.” Peter attempted to persuade.

“Wait—Wade Wilson? You mean the guy that—”

“Yep.” Tony replied before Steve could finish as well. 

“Why? What did he do?” Peter frowned.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? Since you’re obviously such good buddies with him.” Tony grunted, distressed. “Actually, don’t. I seriously never want you to see him again.”

“He cares about me.” Peter said, but it sounded almost pathetic coming from his lips. He felt embarrassed again.

“Son, listen.” Steve moved closer to the bed, going to take a seat. “I think you should listen to Tony on this one.”

Peter shook his head again, eyes only slightly wide. “But—”

“Wait, are you taking my side? You’re taking my side. This is a solid moment in history.” Tony looked to Steve.

“Don’t make me take it back.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow towards Tony.

“Nope. You can’t take it back now.” Tony pointed out, but his eyes soon returned to Peter. “Yeah. No. He’s dangerous.”

“Fine. I’ll stop meeting him.” Peter said.

“Good.” Tony said.

“If you tell me what he did.”

“I already told you, Pete. He’s dangerous.”

“Why? I told him about you. He acted as if he doesn’t know you in person. As if he’s never met you.” Peter pointed out.

“We haven’t met directly. But I have heard _plenty_ about him.” Tony tilted his head, lips pursed.

Peter perked up a bit. “See? You’ve never met him before! Maybe if you did, you’d actually like him.” He pointed out.

Tony patted Peter’s shoulder briefly. “Oh, you’re cute. I’m never going to speak to a mercenary like him.” Tony blinked. “Wait… What else did you tell him?”

Peter shrunk a bit. “Uh—Wh—H-Huh?”

“I asked what else you told him.” Tony squinted.

Peter breathed in a bit. “Nothing! Nothing, just—I, uh… I mean, he knows a little bit.

“About _what?_ ”

“That… That I’m staying here.” He mumbled. “And… Uhm, and Aunt May.” _And the adoption papers, but let’s not stir the pot._

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose stressfully. “Why? Why would you even mention any of that to him? I mean, how long have you known him?”

“Long enough.” Well, a week. He frowned. “Wait… A mercenary?” Peter questioned.

“It means he’s hired to take part in an armed conflict, but he doesn’t belong to any specific army.” Steve explained.

“No, no, I know what it means. I mean… I just… I didn’t know that he was one.” Peter admitted stupidly. How could he not know? He watched Deadpool kill someone, right in front of his eyes. _Way to ignore the red flags, Pete._

“Well, now you know.” Tony exhaled. “He’s been on our radar quite a few times already. Fu—Messed with a lot of our people. So, yeah. I want you to stay away from him. Okay? This isn’t me trying to lay down the law. I don’t want to see you get hurt.” He said, voice somewhat softer this time. Peter would take anything from Tony that wasn’t angered or frustrated.

The tips of Peter’s digits toyed with one another uncertainly. Hesitantly, Peter nodded. “Okay.” He murmured.

Tony sighed in slight relief. Although he was slightly unconvinced, he let it go for now, and Peter had asked to be left alone for a while. It was the same situation after lunch, and as well after dinner ( which, by the way, were both very awkward. )

;

So, technically, Peter had promised Tony that he’d never _see_ Wade again. But talking was an entirely different story, right? Well, at least, to Peter it was. So, a couple of hours later, curled up under the covers in a new set of pajamas and a weary expression on his features, Peter dialed Wade’s number and pressed the phone to his ear.

“You’ve reached the cellphone of the man who uses his humor to deflect his insecurities. He’s currently awaiting a phone call from a shorter person. Brown hair and brown eyes. Have I mentioned he’s short?” Wade answered the phone playfully.

Peter smiled a bit into the phone, but it faded when he realized what he had called Wade for. “Hi, Wade.” He said, keeping his voice down.

“I was just about to text you. Did you miss my sweet, symphonic voice?” Wade teased.

“Uh—No. I mean—Yes—I did, uh—I mean—” Peter sighed, pausing for a moment. He was horrible at confrontation.

“Relax. I’m just twisting your nipples. Busting your chops. What’s up? You sound upset. Have I casted a sudden shadow of depression over your shoulders?”

“No, Wade, I just—” He went to speak, but suddenly his phone vibrated. Across the screen, sprawled at the top, was ‘Aunt May’. She was calling. “Actually, uhm—I’m gonna call you back. Sorry.” He said. Before Wade could answer, he hung up their call and answered Aunt May’s. “Aunt May?” He asked lightly.

“Hey, sweetheart.” May spoke from the other line, voice just as delicate as it had been from her last call. “How’re you holding up?”

Peter smiled a little bit. “I’m okay. Just adjusting, and all.”

“I’m sure you’re excited to go back to school.” She teased lightly. “Do you have your car at Tony’s?”

“I’ll probably pick it up before the school week starts. I don’t want Happy to have to drive me every morning.” He sighed.

“What’s wrong, honey? You seem tired.”

“Yeah. Yeah, just tired. How are you?” Peter asked in reply.

“Great. I miss my little lovebug.”

“Oh, God. Don’t call me that.” Peter laughed, using his free hand to cover his face with his hands.

“What? You’re not eighteen yet. And I get to call you that until your birthday.” Aunt May laughed as well, though it had halted abruptly, instead turning to a thick, mucus-filled cough. Peter’s smile fell a bit.

“When are they going to let you out?” Peter asked hopefully.

“Soon, Pete. Soon. They found another tumor, but—They’re going to remove it, okay? Tomorrow.”

Peter nibbled on his bottom lip. “And you’ll be okay?”

May was reluctant to answer. “Of course.” She said. There was a smile in her voice. “Listen, you get some rest, okay? I have to, too.”

“Okay.” Peter exhaled silently. “I love you, Aunt May. Can you call me tomorrow?”

“I’ll try.” May promised. “I love you, too. And hey—Don’t let anyone tell you how to feel, okay? I know times like this could be tough for you.”

“I wish you were here.” Peter ran a hand over his face once.

“I know.” May said. “I wish I was there, too.”

Peter was silent for a moment. May spoke up. “I’ll talk to you this weekend. Goodnight, Peter.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

Once they hung up the phone, Peter placed his phone aside and rested an arm over his eyes. He felt figuratively gross, and his eye sockets were heavy. He made the easy decision to take a shower. Gathering his clothes, Peter went into the drawers he had finally placed his clothes in, grabbing yet _another_ pair of pajamas ( he’s grown quite used to the idea of wearing pajamas or comfortable clothing whenever he wasn’t leaving the house ), and went to the bathroom. There were multiple throughout the house, but Peter had decided that he’d use the one connected to the guest room he was in. Leave it to Tony to probably have a bathroom in every bedroom.

Peter closed the bathroom door shut behind him, placing his clean clothes on the sink. He glanced at himself in the mirror once, and, yeah, he definitely needed a shower. After stripping his clothes from his body and turning on the shower water, he awaited the pressured liquid to grow luke-warm before he stepped in. He wasn’t sure how long he had spent in the shower, but he dried himself off and changed, feeling much better than he had before. He brushed through his wet hair, combing it to look somewhat neat. After brushing his teeth, Peter exited the bathroom, the air crawling cool against his skin. He placed his dirty clothes into the hamper, but as he turned to go back to sit onto his bed, he froze.

“This is your room? I swear, this is like my apartment. I would fucking kill to have a room like this. Seriously. I’d put a bullet in someone’s brain for this room. I would fuck their brain hole, too. Not that I’m a necrophiliac. But some people do crazy shit for Klondike bars, too. Figured this is the same.” Wade smiled over at Peter. Wade _fucking_ Wilson was sitting on his bed, laying on his side, with his chin propped up in his hand, elbow resting on the duvet. No suit on this time, but he was wearing regular clothes.

Peter was frozen in place, unable to answer for a moment, before he hissed out, “ _Wade!_ ” in a sharp whisper.

Wade rose his nonexistent eyebrow, sitting up. “What? I thought you wanted to see me.” He fake-pouted.

“You’re not supposed to be here!” Peter kept his voice low, slowly approaching the bed.

Wade stood up, looking down at Peter, who had stopped unanticipatedly in front of him. They were closer than Tony probably would be comfortable with. Actually, Tony wanted Wade to be as far away from Peter as possible, so being in the same room, or city, as Peter was definitely uncomfortable for Tony. “Oh, come in. I just stopped in to visit. No one knows I’m here.”

“How did you even get in?” Peter asked. “And why did you come?”

Wade shrugged. “Your window was open.” He said. “I came because you seemed like you were shitting bricks over the phone. What’s wrong? You’re upset about something. Were you going to tell me? Cause now I’d really like to know.”

Peter huffed. He pouted a bit himself, and he felt Wade’s finger underneath his chin, just swiping it once, gently. Peter glanced up at him. “I’m upset about a lot of things.”

“I can see that.” Wade gave him a small smile. “What’s wrong, Spidey?”

Peter bit the inside of his cheek. Now that Wade was in front of him, he didn’t even want to say it, because he’d also kill for Wade to stay for as long as possible. He probably wouldn’t do things with anyone’s brain hole, but… Figuratively killing someone could work. “Why didn’t you tell me Stark knows you?” He started. It sounded completely stupid, coming out of his mouth, so he rephrased. “Tony knows who you are.”

“Wait—You told him about me?” Wade asked, stuck between admiration for Peter, and slight confusion, with a mix of irritation, but it was very little. Wade couldn’t stay angry at him.

“You said that you wanted to be able to come to the compound.” Peter pointed out.

“I didn’t think you’d actually _do it._ ” He huffed, looking down at Peter with a light expression. “Well, fuck. Now what?”

“I’m not allowed to meet with you anymore.” Peter murmured, keeping his eyes on Wade’s. “Tony doesn’t want me seeing you. At all.”

“Looks like you’re already breaking the rules.” Wade smirked a bit.

Peter smiled lightly to the exuberant quirk to Wade’s lips. “This is your fault.” He pointed out.

Wade sighed. “Kinda is. I guess this means I should go.” He said, but he made no motion in moving his feet.

“Yeah.” Peter mumbled, glancing to Wade’s lips for a moment, though his eyes returned to Wade’s pupils after a second or so. He also made no movement to step away from Wade and let him leave. The two of them stood still, just observing and admiring one another.

“Any second now.” Wade mumbled, his hands slowly moving up to wrap around Peter’s waist. He brought the other closer to him, and Peter felt his breath get stuck in his throat.

 _Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God._ Peter did not remember the last time he’s kissed anyone. He felt an anxious wave of pressure, and he wasn’t even sure if they were going to kiss. Were they? They were pretty damn close. Definitely close enough to be considered kissing distance, and—Well, shit.

Peter reacted suddenly, but instead of moving in to kiss him, Peter flung his arms around Wade and pressed his face into Wade’s sweatshirt. “Please don’t go.” He whispered, gripping Wade’s hood, which was down.

Wade’s arms slid up a bit, closing the gap between them completely as his nose buried into Peter’s damp hair. “You smell like coconuts.” He whispered.

Peter laughed a little bit. “I just took a—Oh, whoa—” He had stepped forward just a little bit, but he had completely lost balance. Wade probably could have taken Peter’s weight, but he chose not to, and the two of them dropped down onto the bed, Wade falling onto his back, with Peter landing directly on top of him. Peter pulled back in the slightest, trying to scramble to get off of Wade, but as he sat up, his eyes settled down onto Wade, whose arms were no longer around Peter, but folded behind his head. Peter was sitting upright in Wade’s lap.

“The water’s fine.” Wade teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, shut up.” Peter laughed lightly, smiling down at Wade, but he crawled off of him anyway. He felt flustered, and his cheeks had been tainted a tickled pink. He remained sitting up, as Wade remained laying down, looking up and over at Peter. Peter tilted his head a bit, resting his elbows on his knees. “What?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Wade smiled a little.

“But you’re smiling.”

“Oh, sorry. Let me just cry my eyes out.” Wade commented.

Peter laughed. “You know what I mean.” He said.

Wade adjusted himself on the bed with a light huff, and he rested his head in Peter’s lap. Peter didn’t seem to mind. He looked down at Wade, who was looking right back up at him. “I’m just… surprised.”

“Why?” Peter asked.

“Because you haven’t told me to get the fuck away from you.” Wade chuckled.

“I don’t see why I would.” Peter replied.

“I shot and killed someone in front of you because he stole your stuff. God—Fuck. Now I’m questioning morality. I don’t even know what the fuck you’re doing to me.” Wade sighed. “I’ve done so much shit in the past, too.”

“Tony told me.” Peter mumbled. “About… Being a mercenary.”

Wade grumbled. “Fucking wonderful. There’s other stuff, but… Sure. Why haven’t you run the other way yet?” He asked. Wade knew he was a bad influence on Peter. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but Peter was different. Completely different than the others.

“I already told you.” Peter smiled down at him, placing his hands at the side of Wade’s head, caressing the sides of his cheeks. “I’m not gonna leave you, Wade.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finally goes back to school. His friends definitely missed him, some more than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So if I haven't mentioned this before, I just wanted to let you guys know that Harry Osborn's faceclaim for this fic will be Harriston Osterfield. I feel as if he meshes well with the cast, and the couple of appearances he's made in Infinity War and Homecoming as side characters definitely has me convinced.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! Sorry for the late update. I had a terrible headache yesterday and early this morning. <3 I love all of you for your patience.

“If I could sit like that, I would sit like that all of the time.”

Peter was hanging from the ceiling, upside down, where Wade was sitting cross-legged in front of him. Peter had a playful smile on his lips, hanging idly as if he were sitting upright. It didn’t bother him at all, and if anything, he liked to hang upside down.

“I do sit like this all of the time.” Peter replied with a shrug.

“Doesn’t the blood rush to your head?” Wade questioned, resting his palms behind him for support as he leaned back, still looking over at Peter.

“Nah. I’m kind of lucky with that.” He admitted. The hair at the top of his scalp hung only a bit, which was probably the only part of his body that made him look as if he was actually upside. His face wasn’t red, nor were any veins noticeable.

Peter had shut all of the lights out except for his nightstand at this point, the blinds pulled shut, as well as the curtains. He was one hundred percent sure that if Tony caught him, he’d kill him. And Wade. He had shut his door, but he had to be cautious. They were both keeping their voices down as best as they could. The digital clock read 2:35 a.m., and quite frankly, Peter wasn’t tired. Yet. He’d get there soon enough, but he’d rather risk nights without sleep than not talk to Wade.

“What other hidden talents do you have?” Wade asked with a bit of a curious glance, leaning himself forward again.

“Oh—Lot’s of things.” Peter detached himself from the ceiling and plopped down onto the bed. “Like, uh—I can… Well, _lots of things._ ” He said, which earned an admiring smile from Wade.

“Of course. Well, I can be very flexible. As in, if I break my legs or tear my scrotum while doing a split, it won’t hurt so bad after a minute or so.” Wade smirked.

“Well… I can do a flip.” Peter said.

“I’ve seen you do hundreds of flips.” Wade replied.

“So, you’ve watched me.”

“Admired from afar.”

Peter laughed a bit, moving to rest his back against the pillows. “For how long?”

“About a year.” Wade explained. “I’ve just seen you around a lot, is all. You do a lot of good.”

Peter nibbled on the inside of his bottom lip. “Can I ask you a couple of questions? I mean—About… About your mercenary job.”

Wade grumbled. “I didn’t kill anyone who didn’t deserve it. I only took up the job if it needed to be done. And sometimes, I didn’t even kill anyone. I just… Y’know, taught them a lesson. Or threatened them.”

Peter nodded a little bit. “And you still do it?”

Wade shrugged a bit. “Here and there. Right now, I just check people off of my list.”

“And who’s on your list?” Peter smiled a bit, resting his elbow on his knees.

“That’s for me to know only, sweetheart.” Wade said, shifting forward a bit so that he was sitting closer to Peter, but he was smooth with it. No major, noticeable movements.

Peter huffed a bit. “You know… We’ve only met with each other a couple of times. I still feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

Wade shrugged. “There’s not much to know.”

“You survived cancer.” Peter rose a brow. “You’re a mercenary and even Tony Stark knows about you. Obviously, there’s more to your past than just that.”

“Well, all I know about you is that you don’t have parents and Tony Stark wants to adopt you. And your aunt’s in the hospital. But those last two things are current.” Wade tilted his head a bit.

Peter thought for a moment or so. “Well… What do you want to know?”

“You still go to school, right?” Wade asked, and Peter nodded. “Where do you go?”

“Midtown School of Science.” Peter replied. Wade looked impressed.

“I always love a science nerd.” He sighed contently. “What year?”

“Senior. I graduate this year. Then I never have to take those stupid Common Core Regents again.” Peter rolled his eyes a bit.

“Regents?” Wade questioned.

“They’re basically finals, but they’re made by the state. If you fail, you have to take a two week course and retake it at the end of August. It’s actually the worst. New York is about the only state who has it.”

Wade scowled. “Yeah, I don’t miss school at all.”

Peter sighed. “I’m still going to college, though. I love Midtown, and truthfully, I’m kind of afraid to leave it.”

“Why?”

“Well… It means I’ll have to get my own place. Grow up. Pay bills. The entire idea of it kind of sucks.” Peter admitted.

“What about Spider-Man?” Wade asked.

“What about it?”

“Tony knows, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Hasn’t he ever offered you a job, or something?” Wade continued to ask.

“Well… He did want me to become an Avenger.” Peter admitted.

“See? You could do that.” Wade smiled.

“I mean, I _guess_ so, but the Avengers aren’t really… You know, the Avengers anymore. They broke up.” Peter explained.

Wade rolled his eyes briefly. “Well, whoever’s the man in the relationship should suck it the fuck up and ask his lady out again, because that’s bullshit. Or vice versa.”

“I guess it’s not that easy.” Peter exhaled, keeping his back rested against the pillows.

“So… If you were to go to college, then where?”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not sure. I want to stay here. Support May. And I don’t want New York to lose Spider-Man. Maybe Empire State University.”

Wade nodded a little bit. “Can I… ask you about your parents?”

“There’s not much to know.” Peter said truthfully. “They left me when I was three. I barely remember them. They said they’d be back, but… Were reported missing in action.” He glanced away from Wade with frustrated eyes. “I don’t know if they’re dead or alive. They’re probably dead, for all I know.”

“How do they think they died?” Wade asked, tone softer now. He didn’t want to upset Peter in any way, but Peter didn’t seem to mind talking about this stuff, since he’s never spoken about it before.

“They said it was a plane crash.” Peter murmured. “They never actually found the bodies.”

Wade nodded a little bit. “Well, who knows. Maybe they’re still out there, right?”

“Maybe.” Peter shrugged, tucking himself under the covers, legs pulled up a bit.

Wade shifted to sit next to Peter rather than across so that Peter could stretch out his legs. Peter did just that, his legs unfolding as he got comfortable underneath the duvet. “You tired?” Wade asked, turned towards Peter in the bed. Peter was lying on his back, but his head was turned to look at Wade. He nodded to Wade’s question.

“Just a little bit.” Peter admitted. “I don’t really want you to leave.” He found Wade’s eyes.

Wade was tempted to taking Peter’s hand. He didn’t. “So I won’t.” He murmured.

“But you should.” Peter whispered, eyelids starting to grow heavier than he would have liked them to. He wasn’t ready to sleep yet, but it was nearing three in the morning.

Wade smiled a little bit, and he reached forward to brush a hand through Peter’s washed hair, moving it away from his forehead. “You afraid Stark’s going to walk in?”

“If Mr. Stark knows you’re here,” Peter closed his eyes, turning on his side towards Wade, yawning, “Then—” He paused to finish his yawn, the first part of his word drawn out from it, “Then he won’t trust me. He’ll probably set up cameras, or somethin’. Have the window locked permanently.” He slurred tiredly.

“It’s three in the morning. I’m sure he won’t come in.” Wade replied.

Peter shifted himself closer, up until his face was snuggled against Wade’s chest, his body flush against the mercenary.

Wade was there for a moment, almost unsure of what to do—He had made plans to sneak out before daybreak, but… Maybe a couple of more hours wouldn’t hurt. His arms slid around Peter’s frame, and soon enough, Peter was snoozing, arms looped around Wade’s shoulders as he snored noiselessly.

When Peter woke up, Wade was gone.

;

“Are you sure you’re ready for your first day back?” Tony asked. He, Steve, and Peter were all situated at the dining room table, eating breakfast. Peter had to get driven out soon, so he’d probably stop for his car after school. “Because you can stay home.”

Peter knew that Tony would offer. It had been a couple of days since Wade had snuck in, and it was finally time to go back to school. Aunt May was still in the hospital, due to the fact that the cancer had spread from the lungs, into the throat and brain. They had successfully removed a couple of tumors, and Peter had visited her yesterday. From the looks of it, she wasn’t getting any better. Peter had felt rather shitty and had called Wade a couple of times when he was sure Tony and Steve were fast asleep. They’d talk about whatever was on their minds, and Peter found he was starting to lose a lot of sleep. He didn’t mind. “No, it’s fine. I’ll go. I don’t want anyone to question why I’m gone.” He said. Ned was nosy, and Michelle was kind of a stalker. So, he didn’t need that.

“Call us if you need to be picked up.” Steve said, looking over at Peter with a soft expression. Peter returned to him a gentle smile. He, Steve and Tony had gotten quite close, whether it be spending some nights watching movies and television shows that Steve had missed out on or playing board games along with Natasha whenever she was up for it. 

“Thanks, guys. Really, I’ll be okay. I have all my work done. I’m all good.” Peter nodded, gently biting his bottom lip. “I’m just, uh—I need you to sign my absent note.” His eyes grazed Tony for a moment, who stopped chewing his bacon mid-way when Peter finished speaking.

“Me?” He asked, mouth half-full, blinking. Technically, Peter did need his guardian to sign the note. And Tony was the one looking after him.

“Yeah.” Peter nodded shyly. “I mean—If that’s okay—I mean, it’s required by the law, but—”

“He’ll sign it.” Steve patted Peter’s shoulder with a light grin.

To say the least, Tony looked satisfied. After everything was cleaned up and Peter had everything ready to go, he stuffed his suit and phone into his backpack. Before he got into the car with Happy, he hugged both Steve and Tony. Tony’s smile had only grown from there.

“I’m only driving you in today, right?” Happy said dryly from the front seat. He didn’t let Peter take shot gun.

“Uh—Yeah. I’m going to pick up my car today.” Peter explained.

Happy grumbled in approval. The rest of the drive was silent.

Once Happy pulled up to the school, Peter slung his bag around his shoulder. He would have thanked him, but as soon as he had stepped out of the car, Happy rolled down his window and drove off. He sighed as he started towards the school, greeting a couple of people as he went straight to his locker. Opening it up, Peter brought his bag around his body to put a couple of books in, as well as grab a couple of things to make up for any work he couldn’t. Suddenly, he felt a lively pair of arms thrown around his neck, a couple of books slipping from his grasp. He would have been irritated if he didn’t see it was Ned at first.

“Ned!” Peter greeted with a smile, returning the hug to his best friend. “How was vacation?”

“Oh, I have so much to tell you. We went everywhere.” Ned grinned widely. “It was awesome. Can I tell you later? Maybe we can hang out somewhere?”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh—Well…”

“Oh. Right, right,” Ned lowered his voice to a whisper, raising his hand to cover one side of his mouth. “You have _Spidey_ plans.”

Peter smiled a little bit. “Sort of.” He said. “Mr. Stark doesn’t really want me to do that as much this week.”

Ned tilted his head. “Why?”

Peter kept quiet this time. “I got shot.”

“ _What?_ ” Ned asked in a sharp whisper.

“Twice. My legs.” Peter laughed anxiously. “It hurt a lot. I’m still kind of healing, but… By the end of the week, I’ll be good.”

“How are you even walking right now?” Ned gaped at him in veneration.

Peter just shrugged. “I’m fine. Really.” He went to pick up the things he had dropped, but when he turned, Harry Osborn was holding them in his grasp, grinning down at Peter.

“Pete,” He greeted, handing Peter the notebooks. “It’s good to see you.”

Peter immediately smiled. He moved forward to hug the other after he placed his books in his locker. “Harry.” He greeted, his face finding way to Harry’s neck for a moment. Harry was another one of his best friends. “It’s so good to see you.”

“Me? It’s good to see you. Couple of us were worried sick when you skipped school the other day.” Harry said, pulling back to allow Peter to finish up with his locker. “I think we should catch up later.”

Ned nodded quickly. “Oh my God, _yes!_ Can we do it at Harry’s house? Cause that’ll be really awesome.”

Harry shrugged. He looked a bit bothered, but he did his best not to show it. It’s not that he didn’t like Ned, but for some reason or another, Harry was interested in it just being he and Peter tonight. “My dad’s not home tonight. We could chill in the den, if you want.”

Peter thought about it for a little bit. Ultimately, he nodded. “Okay. Yeah, maybe I can. I just gotta ask Mr. Stark.” He said.

Harry rose a brow. “Why? What about Aunt May?” He smirked a bit. “Oh, don’t tell me the two of them finally—”

“What? No! Ew.” Peter’s face scrunched up to hold a look of distaste. “No, uh—May’s been sick, so I’ve been with Tony for a while.”

“Oh.” Harry nodded a little bit. “Sorry, I—I didn’t know, Pete.”

Peter shrugged, smiling. “It’s fine. Hey, is it cool if we invite Michelle tonight?”

Harry was reluctant to answer, but he forced a bit of a smile. “The more the merrier, right?”

“Oh, yes. _Yes._ This is going to be so awesome.” Ned’s excitement was cut off by the bell. “Hey, listen—I’ll see you guys at lunch, okay?” He said, before running off to his first period class.

Peter gave Harry a light smile. “I’ll see you, Harry.”

“Uh—Wait.” He stepped forward, grasping Peter’s wrist. “Pete, I gotta talk to you about something.”

“Everyone get to class! Hanging around will only get you detention.” One of the teachers stepped into the hall, the students scattering to find their classroom.

Peter eyed the teacher, before looking back at Harry. “Can we talk later? I should really get to class, Harry.” He said. Harry nodded, a bit vexed, though he said goodbye and headed off. Peter did the same.

;

Michelle plopped down into the seat across from Peter and Ned with an exhausted exhale. “My God, this winter break was insane.”

Peter smiled. “It’s good to see you, too, MJ. What happened?”

“Absolutely nothing. That’s why it was insane. I usually do _nothing._ My bed is my best friend during vacation. But… I did a lot. Besides hanging out with you, I actually spent a lot of time with my mom.”

“That’s awesome.” Peter beamed.

“It was.” Michelle grinned, nibbling on her bagel. “Anyway, Ned, what’d you do?”

“Canada.” Ned grinned.

“Lucky girl.” Harry teased as he slid into the spot across from Peter. “I want to do Canada. What’s her number?”

“Very funny.” Ned squinted over at him. “Oh! MJ, by the way, we’re hanging out at Harry’s after.”

“Is this an obligation to come?” She rose a brow.

“Yes.” Peter and Ned said in sync.

“What would we be without you, MJ?” Harry teased, nudging Michelle’s side with a light grin.

She rolled her eye a tad, but she nodded. “Okay. Fine. I’ll come. But I can’t stay too late.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry grinned at the three of them, before they delved into conversation and started to eat.

;

When school ended, Peter stepped outside to get away from the noise, and dial Tony’s number. He leaned his back against the railing of the staircase.

“Pete. What’s up? You need a ride, or something?” Tony answered.

“No, no, I just wanted you to know I’d be getting home a bit later tonight.” He explained.

Tony was quiet for a moment. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Wade, does it?”

“What? No. We’re going out to eat, probably grab something quick at Delmar’s, and then going to Harry’s.” Peter explained.

“Who’s we?” Tony questioned.

“Mr. Stark…” He sighed. “It’s me, MJ, Ned, and Harry.”

“Okay, okay. Fine. Sorry, I just… It’s a habit.” There was a smile evident in his tone.

“It’s fine.” Peter smiled as well. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“No later than ten thirty.” Tony said.

“Eleven thirty? Sounds great! Bye, Mr. Stark!”

“Now, hold on—”

Peter hung up with a playful grin, before his eyes scanned the crowd for his friends. He still pondered about what Harry had to talk about with him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A certain situation sets Peter off guard, and from thereon out, he has no idea how to deal with the people he loves.

Delmar’s Deli-Grocery had to be about the best sandwich shop in Queens. Peter had stopped there a lot after school to have something to eat after he finished up with his ‘Spider-Man duties’. It had taken a while to rebuild the actual place when the blast from the bank robbery scene had destroyed it, but once it was back up, it had grown just as popular as it had used to be. Peter was one of Delmar’s favorite customers, and he planned to visit that Deli until the day he left New York, which was unlikely. Peter was one of the few New Yorkers who actually loved New York.

Peter held the door open for his friends once they reached the shop, one of them stepping in after the other. He had brought Ned here a couple of times, and Michelle and Harry had told Peter they’ve been here, but he figured they weren’t consistent customers. He stepped inside, and Delmar came up to the counter, sending Peter a toothy smile.

“Hi, Mr. Delmar.” Peter greeted, stepping up to the counter. He had already grasped a load of snacks from the entrance, placing them on the counter for when they were ready to pay.

“Mr. Parker.” He welcomed, resting his forearms on his side of the counter. “I see you’ve brought your friends. What can I get for you guys?” He asked, looking at the four of them.

“The usual, number five, and—”

“Pickles, and ‘squishing it down real flat’. I got it.” He beamed, looking at the rest of them. MJ, Harry and Ned all took their orders while Peter greeted Delmar’s cat, and once it was ready, Peter paid for them all and said goodbye, before stepping out of the deli-grocery with his friends.

“Should we find a place to sit?” MJ asked, though there really wasn’t anywhere to do so.

“We can just head back to my place and eat.” Harry offered. “It’s not too far of a walk.”

Once they all came into agreement, they started their walk to Harry’s. Ned and Michelle walked ahead of them, chatting amongst themselves, while Harry and Peter walked behind them.

“Hey, so, what did you need to talk to me about?” Peter asked, looking towards Harry.

“Oh.” Harry was caught off guard slightly by Peter’s question, especially while they were walking in public, and behind their other friends. “Well—Maybe I can tell you later.”

Peter tilted his head towards his friend. “It seemed important.”

“It can wait.” Harry shrugged a bit, shoving his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, though only his fingers could fit in. “I, uh—I’d rather the others not hear.” He explained, voice lowering.

“Oh.” Peter nodded a little bit. “Okay, well, no worries.” He gave Harry a reassuring smile.

“You said Aunt May’s sick. Is it anything serious?” Harry asked, glimpsing at Peter for a moment or so as he changed the subject.

Peter didn’t want to make a big deal of things. He shrugged briefly. “Dunno.” He lied. “They’re not really sure, yet, you know? I mean, she’s in the hospital, but… She won’t be there for much longer.” He forced his lips to pull into a miniature grin. “It’ll be fine.”

Harry nodded. “Good. I’m glad. Aunt May’s kind. She doesn’t deserve anything bad to happen to her.”

“She really doesn’t.” Peter exhaled, somewhat worried. He really hoped nothing would happen. 

“Hey,” Harry patted Peter’s upper back gently, “Whatever happens, I’ll be here, okay?” He comforted. “We all will.”

Peter nodded in reply, gazing towards Harry with thankful eyes.

Once they reached Harry’s home, he unlocked the doors and let them inside, going up the spiral staircase to his den. His den included a Leonard Sectional Couch Collection, along with a large television located upon a dark oak TV stand with bookshelves on either side. There was a coffee table placed in front of the couch, and that’s where they all gathered, situating themselves on the floor as they placed their sandwiches upon the table. Peter shrugged off his backpack as he placed it aside, squishing himself between Harry and Ned as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

“So, how’s spending time at Tony Stark’s?” Ned questioned. While they started to eat, Harry had grabbed the remote to start to flip through channels on cable to watch.

“Oh, fine. He’s been really supportive. I mean, he just looks out for me. He’s really cool, though.” Peter shrugged. He only hoped that Ned didn’t slip up about him being Spider-Man. He hadn’t exactly mentioned it to Michelle or Harry, and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to tell them.

“So, you’re basically living with him?” MJ asked.

Peter nodded a little. “Yeah. Until May feels better.” He said. “So, I won’t be with him for much longer.”

“On a lighter note,” Harry started, because he figured Peter really wouldn’t want to think about May being sick, “I think we should pick a movie to watch.”

;

The afternoon had went smoothly, and they spent most of their time talking about anything they could or wanted to – The Midtown Science Faire that Peter had missed, how Michelle had won, Ned’s thoughts about buying another Lego set, and lastly, their preference on college. Ultimately, Ned and Michelle had ended up curled underneath the fleece blankets on the couch, snoozing away on either side while Harry and Peter sat next to one another, paying attention to the movie.

“You’ve really never seen Alien?” Peter asked quietly, turning his head towards Harry, whose face was illuminated by the colors of the television screen. It was late, nearing around nine o’clock, the traffic outside much more silent than it had been at rush hour. The occasional car passed by, however.

Harry shook his head, glancing at Peter. “Nah. A lot of people give me shit for not seeing it, but… I guess they can’t now.” He smiled a little bit.

“Yeah. You should watch them in order. Actually, Alien: Covenant came out recently. Last year. It was pretty good.” Peter’s eyes returned to the screen.

Harry nodded, pupils lingering on his best friend, and although it settled upon the television screen, he looked back at Peter after a moment. “Hey, uh—Do you think we can talk now?”

Peter blinked, averting his stare towards Harry. “Oh! Oh, yeah, of course, dude.” He smiled. “What’s up?”

“We should probably leave the room. In case they wake up.” Harry said, trying to make up some form of an excuse. Peter easily nodded, and he pushed himself off of the couch cushion.

“Sure. Lead the way.” Peter said, and after Harry got up, he guided Peter into a separate room. It was much more hushed, the sounds of the movie muffled by the walls and door that was now shut. Harry had brought Peter into his bedroom, and as Peter plopped down onto the edge of the bed, Harry was pacing nervously. “What’s wrong, Harry?” He asked, the corners of his mouth twitching to frown, almost.

“So, uh—You know how Betty was over for Winter Break, and stuff?” Harry asked.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. What happened?” He asked. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen Betty near Harry at all today. Actually, he hadn’t seen her at all.

“Well… You know, we were hanging out here. And, you know, things started to go down.” Harry said.

“Things?” Peter questioned.

“ _Things._ ”

“Oh. _Ohhh._ ” Peter nodded in understanding. “Right, right. So, what happened?” He asked, tilting his head. “Did you guys…?”

Harry shook his head, sighing in slight mortification as he took a seat next to Peter on the bed, the mattress dipping underneath their weight. “We couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t?” Peter’s eyebrows knitted together.

“ _I_ couldn’t. I just—For lack of better terms, my dick wouldn’t work.” Harry placed his face in his hands for a moment, rubbing at his eyes in stress.

“Oh.” Peter said, lips parting to speak, but nothing came out. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Yeah, I just—I don’t know. I just didn’t feel any attraction.”

“Well… Sometimes that happens, right?” Peter smiled, placing a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry removed his face from his hands to look at Peter. “It’ll pass.”

“I just don’t think this is something that’ll pass, you know? Not like a phase.” Harry grumbled, biting down nervously upon the inside of his cheek. Bright blue irises never tore from Peter’s cocoa ones. “Betty and I broke up because of this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Peter observed him with a sympathetic expression. “Whatever it is, Harry, we’ll get through it, okay?” He said.

“You’ll help me?” Harry asked, a twinkle of hope swirling within the glisten of his cornea.

“Course.” Peter radiated a smile. Brown doe eyes kept ahold on Harry’s. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Harry grinned a bit himself now, and for some reason, there seemed to be a bit of relief, almost as if a burden was lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you.” He said, glancing away for just a moment or so, growing self-conscious briefly. “So, uh—You and Michelle.”

“What about us?” Peter asked.

“You guys aren’t, like… Together? Or, I mean—You don’t like her, do you?”

“What?” Peter laughed. “No. We’re just really good friends. She’s awesome, but… Just friends. I promise.” He thought for a moment. Did Harry like Michelle? Maybe that’s what this was all about. He had lost feeling for Betty, and he’s taken a liking to MJ—

“Good.” Harry smiled lightly again. And, nope. Nope, nope, nope, was he wrong, because promptly had Harry’s lips been placed against Peter’s, giving Peter barely enough time to react with his thoughts in other places and what not. Harry was _kissing_ him. Peter’s eyes remained wide, unsure of what to do as he sat there, because he literally had no idea how to kiss someone. When Harry reached up to bring his hands to the side of Peter’s face, Peter’s eyes finally fell shut, and then he found himself kissing him back. Maybe it was out of sheer curiosity, but Peter’s mind was clouded, and he had no idea what the hell he was actually doing. Was he overdoing it? Was he supposed to be using tongue, or was that only in the movies? He had always read Harry as straight, and boy, was he wrong. He should have seen right through the conversation.

Harry didn’t have feelings for Michelle. He liked Peter. And Peter wasn’t sure how long this had been going on.

Peter felt Harry slowly start to lower them both backwards, and Peter’s back came into contact with the silky-soft comforter as Harry crawled over him. After a moment, Peter finally pulled away, a slither of anxiety laced within his expression.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t look so terrified, Parker.” Harry grinned, before he leaned down and attached their lips again. “You okay?” He asked against the kiss. Peter’s conscience was swirling with mixed emotions, his arms up and around Harry’s neck, gripping into the hairs at the back of his head gently. He nodded swiftly.

Harry pulled away again, but this time his lips connected with Peter’s neck, and Peter’s eyelids fluttered open slowly. He breathed out as Harry’s tongue pressed against his pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. As amazing as this felt, Peter couldn’t help the guilt wash over his body.

_This was supposed to be Wade._

Peter felt an abrupt sensation of panic crawl his flesh as goosebumps, and his hands moved against Harry’s shoulders to push him back lightly. “Harry—Harry, wait—”

“What?” Harry pulled back, examining Peter with a concerned expression. “Did I hurt you?”

Peter shook his head. “No, no, I just—I don’t…. I don’t think I’m ready.” He admitted, the skin along his cheeks and face flushing a crimson red.

“Oh.” Harry blinked. “Uh—Sorry, I—”

“There’s no way you could have known.” Peter said, slowly sitting himself up. “I’m just… I don’t think I can handle a relationship right now.” He lied, and as Harry backed up, Peter scrubbed awkwardly at the nape of his neck.

“Right—Of course, I—I was a little sudden, uh—”

“I should go.” Peter said quickly, attempting to swallow the dry feeling in his mouth. “Listen, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Okay?”

Harry just nodded. Peter rushed out of the room, grabbed his bag, and left the apartment.

;

Peter sat in the driver’s seat of his car, sunken back into the cushion of the vehicle, completely distraught with how he handled the situation with Harry. Why was he so awkward? Why couldn’t he have just told Harry the truth? He had no idea as to why he felt guilty, anyway. Peter only assumed that Wade was somewhere between ten to twelve years older than him, and he had _no clue_ if Wade had mutual feelings. He shouldn’t feel guilty for kissing someone, because he wasn’t even in a relationship. Wade and he’s potential relationship most likely existed inside of his own head, and Peter wondered if he should keep it that way. _Maybe Mr. Stark was right._ Maybe it was best if he stayed away from Wade.

Stressfully, Peter placed his hands next to one another atop the steering wheel, leaning forward to place his forehead against the back of his hands. “Idiot.” Peter whispered to himself, shaking his head, before he slammed the side of his fist into the top of the steering wheel. His strength had dented the leather, and he grumbled, bringing his head back onto the headrest of his car seat.

Peter felt his phone buzz in his pocket, and he took a moment to regain himself, before he fished his hand into his pocket to pull it out. Mr. Stark’s name was placed at the top, and he pressed accept, placing him on speaker as he started his car and set the phone in his lap. “Hi, Mr. Stark.”

“Hey, Pete. Just checking in. Are you heading home?” Tony asked.

“Yeah. I’m in the car now. I’ll be there soon.” He said, bringing his hands into his other pocket to pull out his keys. He shoved them into the side, turning the keys to ignite the engine, and he buckled up his seatbelt.

“You okay?” Tony noted the slight irritation in his voice.

“Fine.” Peter spoke, trying to muster up as much neutrality within his tone as he could, tapping the steering wheel with the tips of his fingers. “Just, uh—Long day.” He pressed one of his hands against his forehead, thumb and middle finger massaging his temples to relieve a partial section of his oncoming headache.

“Alright. Get home safe, Pete.”

 _Home._ Peter wasn’t even sure what home was anymore. He glanced up at the apartment building. The light to his room was off. It looked almost… empty. His top row of teeth brought his bottom lip into his mouth, and he nodded. He realized, however, Tony couldn’t exactly see that. “I’ll see you soon.” Peter said, and he hung up the phone. Turning the key, he pulled it out and shoved it back into his pocket. Grabbing his cellphone, he stepped out of his car and locked it, before he started towards the apartment building. Glancing at either side of the sidewalk, he started up the brick structure of the building, pulling the window to his bedroom open as he slipped inside.

It was probably worse up front than it was from afar. The entire apartment was dark, a couple of loose sheets of paper or small, empty containers that previously held web fluid were lying around, along with a sweatshirt or two, and whatever else his messy room had to offer. He had gotten what he came for – He grasped a framed photograph of he and Aunt May off of his dresser, before returning to his car and driving back to the compound.

;

Once Peter managed to get past the protective attitude of Tony Stark and the firm, curious gaze of Steve Rogers, Peter stepped into his room. He set his bag down and exhaled, and as he flicked the switch on, light flooded the room. Wade was sitting cross-legged on Peter’s bed, back rested against the wall, a book in hand. He turned his head towards Peter with a playful grin, and Peter had only been shocked for a second or so. He probably should expect this from Wade. Wade, however, had noticed Peter’s disheartened attitude and tossed the book aside as he stood from the bed. “You look like a kicked puppy.”

Peter avoided Wade’s eyes as he shrugged off his coat, placing it on the chair aside as he approached his dresser, digging around for fresh clothes.

Wade’s head tilted dramatically to the right. He was still standing by the bed, awaiting Peter’s response. “Pete?”

Peter shut the drawers of his dresser as his feet brought him towards the bathroom, but Wade stepped in front of him before he was able to make it half way there. Wade looked right down at Peter, and he reached up, a hand smoothing to the side of Peter’s face for a moment. Peter’s expression was temporarily stuck with agitated features, the surface of his eyeballs growing watery. He still wouldn’t look at Wade. “What’s wrong?”

“Just—Don’t.” Peter attempted to swallow his tears as he brought his hands up to push Wade’s fingers from his face. He found Wade’s pupils, and Wade could read hundreds of emotions emanating from Peter’s eyes alone. “You need to go.”

“Did I do something?” Wade asked, tone kept serious. He wasn’t interested in fucking up another relationship of his.

“No, just—Wade, _go away._ ” Peter said, a bit louder this time, running his tongue over his dry lips as his eyesight blurred with salted tears.

Wade extended his hand to take Peter’s hand, but Peter yanked it away, inhaling unsteadily. “Pete…”

“Hey, Pete, I found these old pair of s—” The door opened up as Tony stepped in with a pair of clothes in hand, but as soon as he had caught sight of Wade, displeasure crossed his facial characteristics.

Peter glanced at Tony with red, sodden eyes, though they landed back onto Wade. “You need to leave.” He whispered, and he couldn’t prevent the liquid from spilling from his eyes, streaking his subtly pale cheeks, curving down his chin and against his neck.

“You heard him.” Tony stepped further into the room. If looks could kill, Wade would be dying quite a bit tonight.

“Zip it, asshole. You have no idea what’s good for him.” Wade stepped towards Tony as he pulled out his gun, and Tony raised his fist, tapping his watch as the glove of his Iron Man suit appeared over his hand.

“Stop it!” Peter stepped in between them, preventing them from getting any closer.

“Oh, you’re going to tell me that? I’ve known him for years. How long have you? A week? Maybe two?” Tony snapped, the laser blast in his glove powering up.

Wade’s gun cocked, ready to fire, but Peter stepped in front of it, tears still pouring vigorously from his eyelids. “I said _stop._ ” Peter said, bottom lip trembling as he breathed in sharply once more.

“But—”

“I don’t want you here.” Peter said suddenly. That was far from the truth. Far, far from the truth. If anything, he wanted nothing more than to rush over there and press against Wade and inhale the faint city scent of his clothes, with a hint of whiskey. He wanted to tell Wade how much he meant to him, tell him to stay and never leave. Yet, the opposite choked from his lips, and he wished he could say different. This was for the best, though. Wade deserved better than him. Wade deserved someone who didn’t have as many issues to take care of, someone who was his age, someone who could be with him freely and without consequence.

Wade’s jaw tightened slightly to Peter’s words, and the kindness he usually held for him had now vacated his irises. It was a hard, desolate stare. He slowly put down his gun, clicking the safety on, and without another word, turned and left through the window.

Peter slowly turned back to Tony, his features tightening in heartbreak. He stepped forward, gripping Tony’s shoulders weakly as he had collapsed into a mess of swelling sobs, dampening Tony’s clothes.

“It’s okay.” Tony whispered, pulling Peter close. Peter’s knees grew weak, holding onto Tony for dear life. “Did he hurt you?”

Peter shook his head quickly, gasping for air as he continued to violently weep in Tony arms. Nothing was okay. Not right now. Not for Peter.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Months pass, and Peter's not so sure he's over it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. This had to be one of my favorite chapters to write. I hope you guys enjoy!

“It is very nice to see all of you gathered here today. As many of the faculty and staff always remind our students, these four years are the fastest of your life, and it is very scary to think I will not see any of your familiar faces within the halls when September comes. Today, I would like to take the time to speak about our Valedictorian at the Midtown School of Science. This student earned the privilege to speak to you all today because of their assiduous effort towards work, and diligence in earning this position. This student is nothing but humble, and looks out for their friends and family, no matter the costs.

“Our Valedictorian is a member of the National Honor Society, has never broken honor roll each semester, has earned an Academic letter, and is a member of the school’s Advanced Science Research Program. They are a National Merit Finalist and focus very strongly towards both extracurricular activities and their schoolwork at hand. They had attended State for the Academic Decathlon and have been accepted into four Ivy League schools around the United States of America. They are hard-working, curious, eager, and kind. Empire State University is a very fortunate institution to inherit our Valedictorian, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

As the principle finished up his speech, the crowd had stood up with an eruption of reverence and cheers, the students especially. Tony Stark’s shouts were most definitely the loudest, and Peter had stepped up to the stage with not his usual, sheepish expression, but a confident one, the smile upon his lips permanent, tugging at the corner of his lips almost painfully. It was the type of grin where you had smiled for so long that your face hurt, and it was a good feeling. The jubilant sounds from the crowd had not vanished as Peter stepped up to the podium, adjusting his graduation cap and the Valedictorian ribbon around his shoulders. Once it had finally grown silent, Peter glanced around the mass of people, his heart skipping a beat, as he was about to unleash everything he has wanted to say for the past four months.

“Wow.” Peter said, and it was the first thing that slipped from his mouth, followed by a nervous chuckle. “There are a lot of you here. I mean—Of course there are. It’s graduation. I hope _all_ of you are here.” He beamed, which earned faint laughter from the sea of parents and students, where all of their eyes were on him. The crowd was entranced. “I could go back and reminisce about the last four years. Talk about how Michelle Jones was the one who really stole the show for the Academic Decathlon, or how Harry Osborn donated half of the cash he owned just so we could keep our television broadcasting in the hallways going.” There was more laughter after that. “Or maybe I’d talk about how Ned and I spent more time playing video games than we did studying. Sorry, Mr. Harrington.” He took a break and mustered up the courage to continue.

“But today, I want to do something else rather than offer terrible advice to my fellow students, when I can explain to you how much of an impact the ones you love have on you. There are two people that I would like to thank for motivating me through my high school career. First, I want to thank my mentor, and a man I have looked up to since I was six years old, Tony Stark. I applied for the Stark Internship during my Freshman year of high school, and I don’t think I could have been more thankful to do so. Tony has been the greatest father figure I could possibly have the benefit of meeting and has offered me so many opportunities along the way. He has given me so very much, and I feel as if I have not given him enough in return. He has always told me that the power one possesses comes with immense responsibility, and although I can certainly annoy the hell out of him, he has taught me to balance responsibility with the people around me that I love. Without Tony Stark, I would not be the person I am today. So, Mr. Stark, thank you for being my mentor, and most importantly, my father.” Peter said. People took the time to applaud once more, clapping their hands vigorously. Tony looked extremely proud from his seat upon the grass field.

“Last, but absolutely and most definitely not least, I want to thank my aunt, May Parker. Also known as literally the coolest person to exist.” Peter smiled into the microphone. “Not only was she my anchor to doing well in school, but she had saved me from potential disaster to my Homecoming outfit Sophomore year. No matter the decision I make, Aunt May supports me. She’s told me countless and countless of times to not care about what others are saying, but to follow your heart instead. She also introduced me to Thai food, so that was pretty cool.” The laughter returned briefly. “I have never looked up to someone more than I have looked up to Aunt May. She has taken care of me ever since I was three years old. Every cold, every Star Wars Lego-themed birthday party, and every tear, Aunt May has been right by my side through both thick, and thin. Aunt May is beautiful; The most beautiful woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on. There was comfort in her heart and kindness in her soul.” Peter felt his voice grow lighter, almost cracking as he took a breather. He gripped the sides of the podium as he spoke and forced a sad smile. His eyes matched Tony’s in the crowd, to where Tony nodded, as if to let him know that it was alright. “Unfortunately, Aunt May could not be here today. She had lost the battle to lung cancer about three months ago, when it had spread from the lungs to her brain. She never deserved what had been given to such a courageous woman, nor did she deserve to die young. I know she is in a better place now, and it would have meant the world if she could be here today. I know she would have been proud of each and every one of us for making it this far. So, Aunt May… Thank you.” He said, before he stepped off the podium to shake the hands of the countless individuals of the school staff upon the stage. If he had spent any longer by the microphone, he was sure he would not have been able to finish his speech.

As he stepped off the stage, and the graduation ceremony concluded, he was first greeted by Michelle. Her long arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he returned the tight embrace, inhaling the floral aroma of her graduation gown.

“You did good today.” MJ mumbled with a smile as she pulled away from the hug.

“Thanks.” Peter smiled in return. It was a sad smile, but one that held an unspoken satisfaction to it. Harry and Ned came over next, and Peter hugged the both of them, gripping onto their graduation gowns with fatigued finger tips. “Hey, guys.” He greeted, his smile remaining.

“Dude, we’re _so_ proud of you.” Ned said happily.

“One hundred percent, kiddo.” Harry teased, grinning over at Peter.

“Hey.” Peter pointed an accusing finger towards Osborn, though his smile had now turned playful. “You can’t call me that. I turn eighteen today.”

It had just so happened that Peter’s graduation did end up falling on the date of his birth. It was cool, because Tony was taking he and all of his friends out to dinner afterwards. He was pretty excited, considering.

“Oh, I’m only kidding.” Harry rolled his eyes, before he stepped forward, and placed a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I’m really proud of you, Peter.”

Peter exhaled contently, looking up at the other boy with affection. When Aunt May had passed away, a couple of weeks after he and Wade had ceased contact, Peter had first attempted to confide in Wade. He would have assumed their fight would have blown over – But perhaps what Peter had said had gotten rid of Wilson for good. When going around as Spider-Man, he hadn’t seen Deadpool once. Not a mention, not a glimpse, nor had he ever received a text back. He knew that Wade was reading his text messages, or at least, at first. Now, the small subtitles beneath the message simply read ‘Delivered.’

So instead, Peter had gone to Harry. His loneliness was overbearing, and although Tony would understand, physically having someone there for you, someone in your age group, had lessened the pain. Peter didn’t feel as sad anymore about his aunt, and Harry was extremely patient – He and Peter haven’t gone as far as sex yet, and it’s not that Peter wasn’t ready. Something in the back of his very mind was itching at his skin, telling him to wait. But to wait for what?

Peter’s arms looped around Harry’s shoulders, and he pecked his lips once. “Thank you.”

“Eeuck. Get a room.” MJ teased.

“Ah, ah—No kissing. Not until after dinner.” Tony squeezed through a couple of students. Steve was following shortly behind, a pair of sunglasses and a hat on, merely to disguise himself. It was a poor disguise, but no one really seemed to care. 

“Hey.” Peter untangled himself from Harry, rushing over to Tony first. Tony pulled him in for a tight hug, patting Peter on the back slowly as he closed his eyes.

“I’m so proud of you. So, so proud of you.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you.” Peter whispered, slowly pulling back to smile up at Tony. His eyes averted to Steve, who he embraced next. “Or you. The both of you are amazing.”

Once the hugs were said and done, Peter took a step back to look around at all of the people who had just congratulated him. His friends, MJ, Ned, and Harry, as well as his adoptive parents, Tony and Steve. Something still felt missing, and it didn’t settle well within Peter.

“So, I say we head back to the compound, and head out for dinner at four thirty.” Tony looked around at all of them. “How’s that sound?”

;

“Okay, you guys are just _mean._ ” Peter pointed out from the backseat of the car. They had taken one of Tony’s cars, the four of them wedged into the three-seater within the back, and Tony and Steve upfront. Steve was driving them home after dinner, while Tony turned his head occasionally to look back at Peter in conversation from the passenger seat.

Michelle was currently in a fit of snorts and giggles. “The—The waiter asked what kind of sauce, and—And Peter said, _‘okay’_.” She laughed hysterically.

Tony himself was giggling like a child. “And when the waiter said for him to enjoy his food, and Peter said, _‘you, too.’_ ”

Peter sunk down against Harry’s side with a huff, but he was smiling. He knew Michelle and Tony were only teasing. “Come on. They were going to eat at one point or another.”

“Give the kid a break, Tony.” Steve chuckled gently from the front seat. “I’m awkward myself.”

“Captain America? Awkward? Is that even possible?” Ned gaped.

Over time, Peter had told Michelle and Harry that he was Spider-Man. They were a little disappointed they hadn’t been told sooner, but a flood of questions had come in, and ultimately, he answered every single one. If anything, Harry was impressed. However, this also meant Peter had to explain the Stark Internship wasn’t actually the Stark Internship, and he was living with Captain America. It was rather humorous, actually.

“Oh, trust me, it is.” Tony started with a laugh. “Capsicle here does not understand any references whatsoever. No matter what I say.”

“You just live to embarrass me, don’t you?” Steve raised a brow towards Tony, chuckling.

As they finally pulled up to the compound, they all exited the vehicle. It was dark inside, and Peter was the last to step in. He took off his blazer and placed it on the coat rack, and as he turned on the light, what was situated in front of him within the main room was… Well… _Everyone._ Not only were there other friends from school here, including Betty Brant, and may he mention Liz Allen, but Wanda Maximoff was sitting alongside the bar with Vision, Sam Wilson waving over towards Steve and Tony as they entered. Bucky Barnes was sitting with Sam, who was also accompanied by King T’Challa and Nakia, along with general O’koye and Shuri, the three female’s names he’s heard from Steve. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were chatting with Bruce and Thor, who both looked war-stricken considering. Thor’s hair was much shorter, and he had an eyepatch. There was a girl sitting next to him, drinking directly from a bottle of whiskey, and she seemed to be Asgardian, though Peter’s never seen her before. Maria Hill was chatting amongst other SHIELD associates, as well as the parents of Ned, Michelle’s mother, and Liz’s mother. Although there were a lot of other people Peter couldn’t recognize, he was standing there, struck with awe and amazement. Music was playing, but as Peter stepped in, everyone’s eyes were on him, greeting him from across the room with smiles and waves.

“You threw me a party?” Peter asked Tony with a laugh, which faded into a wide smile.

“Course. How could I not?” Tony grinned, patting Peter’s shoulder as he brought him into the room. Harry, MJ and Ned went off to greet Liz and Betty. Thankfully, things weren’t awkward at all with Betty hanging around them, even if she was Harry’s ex. Peter had thanked both Steve and Tony before he had rushed off to greet Liz, giving her a tight hug. It seemed as if all events from Sophomore year were forgotten. She was happy to see Peter.

“Peter,” Tony called him over. Peter turned from his conversation with his school friends to see Tony standing over by Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton, where Thor and Bruce were still talking amongst one another.

Excusing himself from the conversation, Peter stepped by Tony’s side, smiling. “Hello.”

“Thor.” Tony patted Peter’s shoulder, shoving him forward slightly so he wasn’t so far back from the group. “This is Spider-Man.”

Thor grinned, straight, milk-white teeth appearing from behind his bearded lips as he outstretched a hand towards Peter. “Hello, Arachnid. I am Thor, Son of Odin.”

Peter reached out, shaking the god’s hand with a wide smile. “Oh—Wow. You have a strong handshake. Not that that’s bad—I mean, I’m a huge fan—Really, I am.”

Thor chuckled heartily, nudging Bruce Banner. “I like this boy. He’s very funny.” He pointed towards Brunnhilde. “This is my friend, Valkyrie. I would watch out for her. She bites.” He teased, to which Valkyrie sent a foot into Thor’s shin. He grunted, glaring over at her, tempted to kick her back. She smiled innocently towards Peter to greet him.

“Where were you guys? I mean, Mr. Stark told me that you guys kind of went MIA when the Avengers broke up.” Peter tilted his head.

Thor rose an eyebrow. “I was not informed of this discontinuation.”

“It’s because you didn’t give us a chance to tell you.” Natasha replied with a faint smirk.

“Well, now you are.” Tony took a seat, sipping at the glass of scotch in his hand.

“Bruce and I, we were on Sakaar.” Thor explained, leaning forward. “It’s outcasted, a place where ‘all lost things are found’. I was forced to fight Bruce, actually, because there was a very creepy monkey-man who called himself the Grandmaster. I’m pretty sure my brother, Loki, slept with him, but we can talk about that later.”

“Thor, the kids are here.” Tony gasped teasingly, pretending to cover Peter’s ears.

“Stop.” Peter laughed, shoving Tony lightly.

“Well, anyway, that’s where I met Valkyrie. She actually tasered me until I was unconscious. For, you know, units.” Thor said, and Valkyrie hid a satisfied smile. “She assisted us in escaping and helped to defeat the Goddess of Death. My sister, Hela. That’s actually why I ended up on Sakaar. She pushed me out of the Bifrost. Anyway, Asgard is destroyed now. I’ve brought my people here to allow them to rebuild their homes and families.”

“And all of that happened while you were gone?” Clint rose an eyebrow.

“Oh, yes. It was rather stressful, I must admit. But everyone’s safe.” Thor explained.

“Where’s your brother?” Peter tilted his head a bit.

“Oh, you had to ask.” Tony said exasperatedly.

“He wanted to go his own way. He promised he’d visit, but it’s complicated to trust the words of my brother.” Thor explained, his smile returning. “No need to think of the negative. The arachnid is graduating! Let us celebrate in beer and women. Where are the women, Stark?”

“Well, we have beer, but Peter can’t drink that. And I don’t have prostitutes at my parties.” Tony rose a brow.

“A shame.” Thor said, looking at his empty glass of beer.

“No, no, don’t you smash that gl—” Tony started, but was cut off immediately.

“Another one!” Thor shouted, beaming as he slammed the beer glass upon the floor as it shattered. Bruce flinched as he had done so.

“Thor, I already told you, people don’t do that here.” Bruce grumbled.

Tony sighed, rubbing at his face. “Someone get him a sippy cup.” He turned to Peter. “Come on. There’s a few more people I’d like you to meet.” He said, grasping Peter’s arm as he started through the crowd of people, towards Steve, Sam, and Bucky. T’Challa seemed to be telling them something, for they were listening to him intently. Shuri, however, was sitting upon one of the barstools, chin rested within her palm as Tony and Peter approached.

“Truthfully, brother, you tell this story every time. How many times do I have to remind you that it’s incorrect?” She spoke, her Wakandan accent evident as an eyebrow raised towards T’Challa.

“What’s incorrect?” Peter asked, stepping towards them.

“His silly joke.” Shuri puffed air of disappointment from her lips. “The joke is, ‘A chemist walks into a pharmacy and asks the pharmacist, “Do you have any acetylsalicylic acid?”’ Now, pause there. My brother thinks it is supposed to be Tylenol.” She scoffed. “It is supposed to be—”

“Aspirin.” Peter piped up, smiling lightly. “Acetylsalicylic acid is aspirin.”

Shuri seemed impressed, grinning wildly. “Yes! That silly medication you colonizers use to rid of pain.”

“Shuri, be nice.” T’Challa warned, tone slightly playful.

“Finish the joke.” Bucky rose a brow towards T’Challa, smiling.

“Well… After the pharmacist says, “Do you mean Aspirin?”, the chemist says, “Ah. Yes. That’s it. I can never remember the name.”” T’Challa grinned as he concluded his sentence.

It earned a soft laugh from Steve, and a small one from Bucky, but that was about it. “I like that. That’s much better than stand up comedy in Buck and I’s days.” Steve commented.

“Peter!” Liz called from the other side of the room. Glancing over at her, he spotted her by Michelle and Ned, and smiled.

“Hey, listen, it was real nice to meet you guys, Shuri, King T’Challa. And good to see you Mr. Barnes, Mr. Wilson. I’m real sorry I fought you guys two years ago.” He smiled. They said goodbye as he made his way to the other side, approaching his friends. “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

“Well… Not to be nosy, but… We were wondering…” Liz started.

“Does this place have a pool?” Ned said suddenly, and quite cheekily.

“Really, Ned? Just like that.” MJ rolled her eyes.

Peter laughed. “Yeah. It’s down the hall. Did you guys bring bathing suits?”

“Tony told us to. We figured he had one.” Michelle shrugged.

“Oh. That’s really cool. Hey, let me go find Harry. I’ll let him know we’re going to head over.” Peter smiled.

Liz nodded. “I’ll get Betty.” She said, placing down her bottle of Seltzer, before she disappeared into the crowd of the room to search for her friend.

While Michelle and Ned went to change, Peter searched the main room. When he didn’t spot Harry, he started down the hall, figuring he was in one of the bathrooms. He spotted one of the lights on within one of the unused guest rooms, however, the door opened a peep.

Peter approached the door, opening it up to turn off the light, though he had noticed two figures upon the bed. At first, he would have figured it was a couple from the party, but he felt almost sick to his stomach to the realization of the sight unraveled before him.

Harry was hovering over Betty, the two of their pairs of lips pressed against one another. Harry had already started to undo her dress, her legs wrapped around his waist.

“Harry?” Peter blinked, frowning.

Harry made a slight noise, and he turned to look over his shoulder from where he had just been kissing her. “Oh, hey, Pete.” He slurred, grinning childishly. He was obviously _very_ drunk. It wasn’t hard to get alcohol at Tony Stark’s party.

“Harry… Get off of me.” Betty mumbled, after she realized they had been caught. She wasn’t drunk, that was for sure.

“Wha-? C’mon! S’Pete.” Harry chuckled, slowly moving to sit back on the bed. “He’s my friend. Well, _boyfriend_ , and—” Harry blinked after he himself had realized what had been going on, and what he had just done. “Oh. _Oh_. Oh, shit.” Harry said, and for a moment, his stomach made an unpleasant sound, before the contents of his stomach spilled from his lips and onto the carpet of the guest bedroom.

Peter stood still for a moment. He wasn’t sure what to feel. A large part of him was very irritated, but… he wasn’t sad. He was almost unbothered with the fact that Harry had cheated on him, in a sense where he wasn’t heartbroken. He glanced between Harry and Betty, looking away. “I think you two should leave.” He murmured, before he shut the door behind him. His back rested against the wall for a second, and he breathed in, running a hand through his soft waves of brown hair.

Why wasn’t he sad? He should be downcast, miserable, and should be turning to the ice cream flavors of the freezer rather than thinking out a plan of what to do next. He had figured for a moment that perhaps the events of the past few months had allowed him to become indifferent towards emotion, but he had nearly cried at the graduation ceremony today.

Peter nibbled on his bottom lip, before he pushed himself off of the wall and started towards his own bedroom, away from the party. He wasn’t head over heels for Harry when their relationship was established, but he figured the affection and feeling would grow over time. These past few months have been nothing but Peter just enjoying his time with Harry. He wasn’t sure if his feelings for Harry were ever there.

He figured, perhaps, it was a temporary placemat for Wade.

 _Wade._ Peter hadn’t thought about him in a while. He hadn’t texted him in about a month or so, assuming it was time to let go of him. But Peter still thought of him every day. Hoped that Wade would show up in his room again, awaiting Peter to step into his room to say a pick up line he’s been reciting for the last twenty minutes or so.

Peter entered his bedroom and shut his door behind him. He was still in his suit from dinner, though he had taken off his blazer and tie, leaving him in black dress pants and a white button-up. Kicking off his shoes, he huffed as he sat down at the edge of his bed, running his hands up and down his upper legs for a moment, almost thinking. Slowly, he laid back onto the bed, before his hands dug into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. Opening up his absent conversation with Wade, he read the words he had sent Wade over the past few months.

_Peter : Hi, Wade. Listen, I’m really sorry about last night. Can we talk?_  
**Read February 28th, 2:36 a.m.**

_Peter : I understand if you’re angry. You deserve to be. I shouldn’t have lashed out. Just… something happened, and I don’t know how to feel about it. Can you please text me back?_  
**Read March 1st, 8:34 a.m.**

_Peter : I still have your clothes. Do you want them?_  
**Read March 3rd, 10:52 p.m.**

_Peter : So, I saw that waitress at that diner we went to. She looked happier. She actually told me she got a girlfriend. That’s cool, right? Maybe she won’t be so angry the next time you go. I mean, unless you want to go with me. I’d really like that._  
**Read March 5th, 11:15 a.m.**

_Peter : Wade, listen, I really need to talk to you. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t think Aunt May’s going to make it. Please text me back. I need you here._  
**Read March 7th, 3:46 a.m.**

_Peter : Aunt May’s gone. She went in her sleep._  
**Delivered.**

_Peter : Wade?_  
**Delivered.**

Peter stopped scrolling there, pinching the bridge of his nose with a dissatisfied grunt. There was much more to read, but he couldn't bear to. He was supposed to be out, enjoying the party, and here he was, sulking over the fact that Wade Wilson, a man he hasn’t spoken to in weeks, hasn’t texted him back, rather than being upset with his own boyfriend cheating on him.

Suddenly, his phone began to vibrate, signaling that he was receiving a call. Wade Wilson’s name was atop the screen.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's not sure what to think when he sees Wade for the first time in months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Sorry I didn't get anything in yesterday, but thank you for your patience and support!

Peter gawked with parted lips at the name upon his cellphone screen. _Wade Wilson?_ It’s been months, and he had the audacity to call now? Should he even be mad? Peter definitely had not treated Wade Wilson very nicely those few months ago. He wasn’t sure if this meant his night was going to get better, or worse, and the pad of his thumb hesitated on answering the phone. He was stuck between angry and relieved, agitated and pleased.

Just as he was about to answer, Tony poked his head into the room, and Peter nearly dropped his cellphone.

“Hey, kid. You coming back out?”

Peter looked towards Tony, attempting to mask his apprehension. “Huh? Oh, yeah—Yep, definitely. Just, uh… Came in here to get my bathing suit. We were going to go to the pool. Uhm… Liz, and I. And Ned. I mean, everyone.” He said, forcing a weak smile.

Tony rose a brow, the corners of his lips pulling into a faint smile. “Well, okay. Just checking in on you, is all.”

“I’m really great, dad. I promise.” Peter said in return, his next grin more convincing.

Tony nodded, reluctant, but he let it be. “All right. See you out there.” He said, before exiting the room and closing the door.

Peter’s smile fell immediately, and he huffed, turning back towards his phone.

_**(1)** missed call from Wade Wilson. _

Peter looked down at his phone. Was he supposed to call back? He wanted to. Before he was able to make a decision, his phone buzzed once, indicating that he had received a text message.

_Wade : Chimichangas?_

He wanted to stay upset, but even for a short-lived moment had a miniature, genuine smile threatened to pull at his edges of his mouth. Contemplating his text message, he typed it out, reading it over a couple of times before he pressed ‘send’.

_Peter : I’ve never had them._

Merely a minute later, he received another text.

_Wade : Tonight?_

Peter bit down onto his bottom lip with his top row of teeth, thinking for a moment or so. Or perhaps, he was overthinking Wade’s text. He could say no, because maybe it was for the best that he and Wade remained apart – That’s what Tony believed, at least. He wondered if meeting with Wade meant that he was, somewhat, letting Tony down. He didn’t like to think about that, especially with all that Tony’s done and been for him.

But… It was Wade. And something about Wade channeled rebellion within Peter.

He typed out a reply and sent the message.

_Peter : Let me know where. I’ll be there._

;

Now that it was much warmer compared to the harsh winters of New York, Peter was thankful for the breezy summer nights in comparison to below-freezing weather. June was much more preferable to February, or at least to Peter. He was still in his clothing from the party, though he had left the tie and blazer at home. He didn’t have the mindset to change. He had snuck out of the compound as soon as Wade had sent the address, knowing fully well that Tony would throw a shit fit when he returned home, but he didn’t seem to care about that so much, either. He felt bad, in a way – Tony had thrown him a party, invited all of the Avengers and friends alike, and here Peter was, sitting in a Tex-Mexican restaurant within Midtown Manhattan, waiting for the very man Tony forbid him from seeing. Peter wasn’t sure why, but he was here, sitting inside of the brightly-lit building at a metal-and-wooden framed table for two, awaiting Wade’s arrival. Situated by the window, Peter had his chin in his palm. He couldn’t help the slight pound of his heart against his chest. In a small plastic bag upon the floor, Peter had brought Wade’s clothes, the very clothes he had borrowed after Wade had patched up his bullet wounds. He hadn’t worn them since, but they were sitting in his top dresser drawer. He figured he should return them, if anything.

Peter’s knee bounced of nervous habit. The man at the counter had approached him once or twice in question if he was going to order anything, and Peter had informed him that he was waiting for someone. He had been waiting for about twenty minutes now. He was tempted to text Wade, but the small welcoming bell at the entrance chimed once the door swung open. Peter hadn’t looked up yet, too distracted by his nerves to pay any mind, but before he knew it, the metal legs of the chair across from him squealed against the grey tile floor as someone took a seat. Slowly did he raise his eyes, and for the first time within months, dark pupils settled upon Wade’s.

Wade was in the usual attire, or at least of what Peter remembered. A sweatshirt, with a hood to cover the features of his face. His face was neutral, not the hardened expression he had recalled from when he had told Wade to leave the compound that night.

Parting his lips to speak, it seemed forever before the words had exited his mouth. “Hi, Wade.” He said simply, voice gentle.

Wade’s orbs scanned over Peter for a moment, taking in his characteristics. Peter looked a bit older. It had only been a couple of months, but there was a small amount of facial hair growing. His hair was more neatly trimmed, but it still had some form of unceremonious aspects to it. His eyes were still young, and it was definitely the very same face Wade had remembered from three months ago. Wade leaned back a bit, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a blank white envelope that held a card, sliding it across the table towards him. “It’s your birthday, right?” Peter’s name was scribbled in messy handwriting across the front.

Peter looked down at the card, blinking. “You remembered?”

“No, I marked it in my calendar. Each page is a different photo of Ryan Reynolds without clothes on.” Wade smiled cheekily. Yeah, no, he hasn’t changed at all. Peter’s glad he hasn’t.

He reached out, hesitantly taking the card. “Can I open it?”

Wade leaned back in his chair. “Read it later.” He shifted a bit in his seat, examining Peter’s apparel for a moment, before speaking up again. “If I had known you were going to wear nice clothing, I would have worn my prom dress.”

Peter looked down at his shirt and pants, quickly glancing back up at Wade. “Oh—No, uh—I graduated today, and then Tony had a, uhm… A birthday party. For me. I mean, obviously for me, because—” He exhaled, and ran a hand through his hair, smiling bashfully, but vaguely. 

“A birthday party? Did it end already?” Wade tilted his head.

Peter shrugged a little bit. “I mean… Sort of.” He looked over at Wade. He wanted to ask why, of all times, had Wade decided to call, or contact him at all. Why couldn’t he have called when Aunt May passed away? Why couldn’t he have replied to him sooner? Before any words could slip from his lips, the man from the cash register came over.

“All right. We all ready?” He asked.

“Oh—We could have come up there and ordered—” Peter started, but Wade piped up.

“Two beef chimichangas. And a side of nachos.” Wade ordered for both Peter and him. 

“Actually, I’ll have a chicken one.” Peter glanced awkwardly at Wade, looking back to the cashier.

Once the cashier headed back, Wade’s eyes settled on Peter uneasily. “I thought you liked beef.”

“Well… I like chicken.” Peter said, his voice falling quieter as he looked away. Sunken back in his chair in the slightest, Peter’s arms moved over his chest uncomfortably.

Wade breathed in a bit, resting his forearms on the tabletop. “Peter…”

“You ignored me.” Peter said, voice a bit louder. “For months.”

“You told me to leave.” Wade spoke in reply, brows creasing. “Without an explanation, as if I’ve done something to you—”

“You didn’t do anything.” Peter leaned forward in his seat. “I already told you that.”

“A little hard to believe when you said you that didn’t want me there. You brushed me off, as if I meant nothing.” Wade snapped back, hurt fastened within his expression. “You told me that you wouldn’t leave.”

“I was upset, Wade. A lot of things had happened that night, I—It was just an inconvenience that you were there.” Peter insisted.

“An _inconvenience_? You don’t get to decide when you’re angry at me or not just because certain things are happening in your life that I didn’t cause.”

“I didn’t mean it that way.” Peter puffed in indignation. “I just—I thought I was doing the right thing.” He wished he could explain it, somehow, but now that he was starting to think about it, everything was so… Silly.

“You can’t just—”

A loud crack within the air signaled a gunshot just down the block, Wade and Peter’s eyes snapping towards the sound. Immediately, the two of them stood.

“Wait—Don’t leave! The chimichangas will be ready soon—” The cashier called out, but Peter and Wade had already exited the restaurant, starting down the block.

“Where did you hear it?” Peter stopped at the corner, pupils darting around for some sight of distress.

There was another shot, the two of them glancing at one another, before they were heading towards the sound. They stopped in front of an alley, where about eight men had guns pointed at one another. It seemed to be three against five.

Peter started to unbutton his shirt as he pulled on his Spider-Man mask. He really did wear his suit everywhere.

“Our first date back together, and you’re already stripping? Well, if you insist.” Wade smirked playfully, though he tugged off his own sweatshirt. “We’re still having those chimichangas, right?” He pulled on his mask and tore off his sweatpants.

“ _Wade!_ Can you remain serious for _one second?_ ” Peter grunted, struggling to get out of his dress pants. Once he had, however, he aimed his wrist at the rusted fire escape of one of the buildings within the alley, pulling himself up so he was above the anonymous men. “Hey, guys. I know where you can get cheaper toys than that. Toys R Us has a thirty percent discount on all of their items, including Nerf Guns.”

All of them raised their guns toward Peter, but Wade spoke to catch their attention. “And you told _me_ to be serious?” They all turned their eyes to look at Deadpool, who was holding his katanas within his grasp. Wade had his red suit on, empty white spheres glaring at the group of men in front of him. “Whoa. You guys are really fucking ugly.” Wade snickered underneath his mask in an infantile matter. “Alright. Who wants to die first?”

“No, Wade! No killing.” Peter advised, shooting a web at one of the men who were ready to pull the trigger, the muzzle of their weapons pointed at Wade. The web wrapped around the gun, and Peter yanked his wrist in a prompt motion, the rear end of the weapon hitting him smack in the face as he fell to the ground.

Wade sighed exasperatedly. “Oh, come on! They were going to kill each other, anyway!” One shot his gun, and it entered Wade’s shoulder. He looked down, chin tilted to examine the fresh wound. “Oh, _fuck._ You’re going to pay for that.” Wade looked back up at the man who had shot him, whose expression appeared a mix of perplexed and frightened. As Wade advanced, all of the men raised their guns.

“Wade, _no killing!_ ” Peter reminded, shooting a web towards the other building in the alleyway as his fingers pressed down onto the button in his palm, pulling him to the other side. He shot a couple of more webs, the fluid wrapping around the top half of their faces to prevent them from seeing, covering their eyes. Bullets were flying all over, mainly at Wade.

Wade swung his katana as three of the men had strived to put a bullet in Wade’s skull – not that it would do much, anyway – And although some of them did dodge his assaults, he managed to glide the blade through one of the arms, tearing right through the clothes, and the skin. He cried out in pain and stepped back, Peter having already taken care of some of the men by bonding their arms and legs with web.

Peter landed onto the ground, approaching Wade with a discontent expression underneath his mask. “I said not to hurt anyone.” He said. Most of the men were on the floor or tied up, except for one, who was making a run for it out of the alleyway. Peter raised his wrist at the man, releasing the web fluid from its holder. It wrapped around the man’s legs as he faceplanted with a heavy groan.

“No, you said not to _kill_ anyone.” Wade smirked irreverently.

Police sirens blared from down the block, and Wade grasped the collar of Peter’s suit, pulling him behind the dark corner of a building. Peter webbed his clothing to him before Wade tugged them away, the pants containing the card Wade had given him inside of the restaurant. He also didn’t want to leave any evidence of who he was. They had to squeeze into the tight space to prevent from being seen as a couple of officers entered the alleyway, observing the scene. “Looks like Spider-Man caught us a couple more crooks.” The policemen commented.

“Oh, fuckers. I helped, too.” Wade complained in a whisper, looking down at Peter.

Peter’s body was tense against Wade’s. He yanked off his mask, glaring up at the mercenary. “You hurt somebody.”

Wade shrugged, reaching up to pull off his own mask. His smirk was still evident. “And if I didn’t, he would have hurt you. Besides, you hurt someone, too.”

Peter’s nose was scrunched up slightly, irritated with Wade’s actions. It was kind of adorable, seeing as he looked like an angry puppy. “You can’t just swing your blade at people like that!”

“It’s a katana.” Deadpool pointed out.

Peter murmured something in vexation under his breath. “What if someone had seen you? Or what if they think that I hurt those men? God, Wade, there could have been so many negatives pulled from this situation. If you had just listened to me, then none of this—”

Peter’s words were halted entirely as Wade’s gloved fingers curved around Peter’s hips, pulling him close in the already compact corner, his lips pressing directly into Peter’s. Peter had not a clue as to react for a second, but once he had come back to his senses, his eyelids fluttered shut, and his arms looped up and around Wade’s shoulders. He exhaled contently as he kissed the other, lips moving in sync and almost perfectly with his, slotting against one another as if it were a missing puzzle piece. He had completely melted within Wade’s touch, any sign of annoyance now diminished as he kissed him back, gripping the spandex material of Wade’s suit at his collar. Wade parted his lips once to deepen the kiss, Peter following suit, before he pulled back, and placed his forehead against Wade’s. Gradually, both of their eyelids opened.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.” Peter whispered, irises swirling with affection.

Wade’s hand soothed up Peter’s spine in a loving manner. “And I’m sorry I didn’t text you back.” He whispered, pecking Peter’s lips once.

Peter smiled weakly. He’s wanted to do this for so long, and he never quite realized it.

Wade beamed back, brushing his thumb over Peter’s faint smile. “Come on. Let’s go get you those chimichangas.”


	13. Chapter 13

One thing about New York city was that it was complicated to view the stars at night – Overcrowding and pollution from the massive amount of transportation used within the city could do a lot to the atmosphere above it. But there was one sight that no other place within the world possessed, and that was Times Square.

Peter bit down into the deep-fried tortilla wrap, legs swinging slightly as he admired the view. Next to him was Wade, the both of them sitting upon a flashing advertisement for the Broadway play Kinky Boots, enjoying their chimichangas in a comfortable silence. The people below paid no mind to them, phones raised in their hands to capture the sight, to which Peter always found tacky. He’d rather rely on memory then stare at a screen, but that was just him. The two of them were still in their suits, but Peter’s mask was behind him, along with his dress clothing and the card had given him. Wade’s mask was tossed along the pile, as well as the plastic bag of his clothing.

Setting down his chimichanga for a moment, Peter wiped his mouth with the napkin and exhaled, still admiring the view. “So… What’ve you been doing for the past few months?”

Wade swallowed the food in his mouth, giving a vague shrug. “I took up a couple of more jobs. Watched porn.” He looked towards Peter. “That’s about it.”

Peter nodded, remaining quiet, glancing back at Wade.

“How about you? I mean—Besides, you know…” Wade trailed off, but Peter knew exactly what he was talking about. _May._

“Well… Tony adopted me when she passed away.” Peter explained. “It was a little awkward at first. But… I mean, now I call him dad without even thinking about it.” He gave a small smile. “I’m also going to Empire State University, so… Staying in the area.” He said.

Wade nodded impressively. “What are you going to major in?”

“Probably major in some sort of science. I was thinking about minoring in photography.” Peter explained.

“Photography?” He asked curiously.

“Well… I saw a job for a newspaper company. The Daily Bugle. They want pictures of _Spider-Man._ ” Peter beamed.

“Wow, Peter. I never expected you to be doing such wrong things. Have I influenced you that much?” Wade smirked faintly.

“Oh, come on. It’s good money, and I could take plenty of pictures that a lot of other people can’t.” He pointed out.

“I’d love some of those pictures. Preferably some without the suit. Or clothes.” Wade murmured as he sipped at the straw in his small soda.

Peter nudged him playfully. “Oh, shush.” He smiled lightly. “Anyway, I’m going to try out for the job. I have a job delivering pizzas for now, but… That’s just really boring.” He sighed. “I probably should have asked Delmar for a job. He’s the owner of the best deli in Queens.” He explained.

“I’d get fired from any real job.” Wade said, taking another bite of his chimichanga. “I don’t like people.”

Peter rolled his eyes, wrapping up his unfinished food and placing it aside for now. “You’re exaggerating.”

“Well, you’re right. I _do_ like you.” Wade beamed towards Peter.

Peter gave him another light shove. “Come on. You like other people.” He said, smile fading a tad. “Uh—… Wade, can I ask you a question?”

Wade looked at him expectantly.

“How long have you liked me? I mean… _liked_ liked me. As in, more than a friend.” Peter explained. 

Wade fumbled with the paper wrapping of his food. “Probably when we met at the diner, was when I knew. Maybe even a little bit before that. I just never acted upon it because I felt… I don’t know. Guilty.” He shrugged.

Peter rose a brow questionably. “Guilty? About what?”

Wade thought for a moment or so. “About acting upon it. I’m just—I didn’t think that it would be good. I _wanted_ to. I really wanted to, actually, but I was pretty sure you didn’t feel the same way, and also you were… I mean, you’re young.”

Peter tilted his head. “I’m an adult, Wade.”

“I know that, but you’re still younger than I am. By ten years, give or take. I just didn’t want to scare you away, or—Come off as pedophilic. Because that’s fucking nasty.” Wade pointed out. “I knew I flirted with you a lot, but… I guess that was just a test to see if you felt the same.”

“I don’t care about the age gap, Wade.” Peter said, expression softening. “But… Tony might.”

“Tony still doesn’t like me?” Wade feigned a pout.

“No.” Peter sighed. “He thinks that you _did_ do something to me. You know, that night. I won’t really tell him anything because I didn’t want to think about it all.”

Wade was quiet for a moment before he spoke up. “What did happen that night?”

Peter looked over at Wade. He had been dreading this conversation for a long time. He really didn’t want to speak about it, because this meant he had to tell Wade about Harry, and their relationship for the past few months. “Well… I was over my friend’s house, and… I thought he was asking me for relationship advice at first. But then he kissed me. And I kissed him back. But it didn’t go any further than that because I thought it shouldn’t be him I was kissing, it should be you. And I don’t even know why I thought that, especially because we weren’t anything at the time, you and me.” He sighed. “So… So, I was sitting in my car afterwards, for about an hour, just thinking. Thinking about what Tony would think if we were dating, or if I snuck around with you. That’s why I told you to leave I just—I felt like you deserve better than me.” Peter explained, eyes still upon Wade. “And—And after you le—After I told you to leave, I felt… I don’t know. Lonely? It was pathetic, and I acted desperately, and so I went back to my friend. The boy who kissed me.” His voice fell quieter.

Wade took all of the information in. He was unsure of what to feel. “So… You and the boy…?”

“We dated.” Peter nodded. “But I just—It didn’t feel like anything. I was just _with_ him. We didn’t have sex, or anything like that, even if he wanted to, I just—” He sighed again. “It felt wrong that it wasn’t you.”

Wade smiled faintly. It fell gradually, however, as another question came to mind. “So, what happened? I mean, between you two.”

Peter glanced away. “He, uh—He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“Today.”

Wade blinked, suddenly growing annoyed. “Today? Oh, that motherfucker. Who is he?”

“Wade—”

“I’m going to fuck him up. He cheated on you? What gives him the fucking right?”

“Wade, really, it’s fine, he was drunk—”

“Address. Do you have his address? I want to fuck up his face so bad that his head looks like his scrotum and his ears are the—”

“ _Wade!_ ” Peter said more firmly, placing his hands on Wade’s shoulders which finally shut Wade up. He smiled a bit, and leaned forward, placing a couple of kisses against the corner of Wade’s mouth, before fully pressing his lips to Wade’s. He immediately felt Wade relax, his hands on either side of Wade’s face. Slowly pulling back, Peter kissed his cheek, finding his eyes. “I’m _fine._ ” He reassured as soft whisper, before settling back into his seat. “I wasn’t… I mean, this is going to sound bad, but… I wasn’t even upset about it. I mean, I’m upset about losing him as a friend, but… As a boyfriend? I just… I don’t care.” He admitted, slight defiance in his eyes.

“And you’re sure?” Wade said, slowly reaching forward to take his hand.

Peter intertwined their fingers, nodding. “Yeah. Really, I’m okay.” He said, opening his mouth to speak again, but then an incoming call was signaled in his suit.

“Your father is calling, Peter. Shall I answer it?” Karen spoke from his suit.

Peter nibbled on his bottom lip. Tony wasn’t going to be happy. “Tony’s calling.” He sighed, looking to Wade, and then at their hands. Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, he spoke to Karen with certainty. “No, don’t pick up.” He said.

“Peter, if you need to go home—”

“I don’t want to.” He spoke before Wade could finish, his smile returning.

Wade rose an eyebrow, simpering. “I like this new rebellious attitude. It’s really hot.”

Peter laughed lightly, moving to stand, though he was still gripping Wade’s hand.

“But you really don’t want to go back to a party? I heard Stark’s parties are the shit.” Wade stood with him, hopping off of the ledge of the advertisement to place himself upon the top of the building. Peter followed suit.

“Nah. My friends won’t miss me.” Peter said, arms returning to his place around Wade’s neck. “Tony’s just… paranoid, is all.”

“Why?” Wade kept at coy smile, fingers wrapping down and around Peter’s waist, gripping it lightly.

“He thinks I’m hanging out with you.” Peter sighed contently, smiling a tad.

“And… You are.” Wade pulled him closer.

“Well… He doesn’t have to _know_ that.” Peter pointed out, pecking Wade’s lips once.

Wade chuckled, returning the brief kiss. “Okay. But what are you going to tell him?”

Peter hesitated a bit, shrugging lightly. “I’ll think of something. I mean, I shouldn’t stay out _too_ late—” Okay. The entirety of Peter hadn’t turned to rebellious nature. “But…"

“As much as I love this new you,” Wade said playfully, nothing but tenderness within his eyes, and he planted a light kiss to Peter’s lips, “We should get you home.”

Peter’s smile fell. “What?”

“I just got you back, sweetheart.” Wade said, fingers moving gracefully against Peter’s lower back. “I’m not interested in losing you again.”

Peter sighed, facial characteristics loving, but he nodded. “Okay. Text me?”

“I will.” He nodded. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, Wade.”

;

“Are you insane?” Tony scolded, looking directly at Peter, who was sitting awkwardly at the edge of his bed, still in his Spider-Man suit.

“I just—I heard a gunshot.” Peter said.

“From Midtown Manhattan?” Tony rose a brow.

Peter squinted a bit. “You put a tracker in my suit? Again?”

“If you’re ever in trouble, I need to know where you are. I don’t want to see you _shot_ again.”

“I’m not a kid! I just turned eighteen.” Peter insisted.

“Which means you don’t know a lot yet.” Tony tried to excuse.

Peter sighed, rubbing tiredly at his forehead. “I’m sorry that I left the party. I just reacted suddenly. I didn’t like the thought of someone getting hurt or killed.” He lied. God, it felt horrible, but… He was finally talking to Wade again. He didn’t want that to be ruined.

Tony’s expression fell gentler. He was eating it right up. “It’s—Just—Answer my calls next time, Peter. I was worried sick, let alone freaked out when you came in here at—” He looked at the clock, “— One in the morning.”

“I know. I know, I’m really sorry.” Peter said, and his eyes showed for it.

Tony exhaled, scratching the back of his head. “Alright, alright—Just—Come on.”

Peter slowly stood. “Where are we going?”

Tony guided him out of the room, starting down towards the garage. “I wanted to show you this earlier, but…” He brought Peter down the steps, into the garage of cars that he had. All of them looked familiar, except for a certain one towards the front. It was black, a model he didn’t recognize, and it looked really, _really_ nice. “You left the party.”

Peter tilted his head. “You bought a new car?”

“I built one.” Tony pointed out. “And it’s yours.”

Peter stood there, frozen for a moment, before he turned to Tony. “You got me a _car?_ ” He said, a smile creeping onto his features.

“Built you one.” Tony pointed out, but Peter was already hugging him. “Okay—Wow. Have you gotten stronger?”

“Thank you.” Peter said, pulling back from the hug. “I’m really sorry, Tony. I mean—I know you threw this party, and it took forever for everyone to get together. And you _got me a car._ ” He paused to rub at the back of his neck, both awkwardly, and guiltily. “I promise, I won’t sneak out of the house anymore.”

And the lies kept piling on.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter continues to sneak around with Wade, and he isn't sorry about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. And a very massive virtual hug and thank you to my good friend, @huntersgrace, who nursed my writers block with brilliant ideas. :') <3

“The chicken’s $6.75 for just a couple of pieces?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he scowled towards the wrapped, uncooked poultry’s price tag.

The best part about supermarket trips with his two adoptive fathers was Steve’s bewilderment every single time they stepped foot into the supermarket. Steve would be baffled at the risen price of milk or complain about how much a single container of ice cream was. It was kind of amusing, and Peter got a kick out of it. He was pushing the cart around with Tony and Steve walking in front of him, but they had stopped within the butcher’s section to pick up some food to cook tonight. This time, Steve was picking on the chicken.

“Hun, it’s fine. It’s not that bad. Plus, they give you, like… Five pieces.” Tony said, gathering some packages of bacon for the morning.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say.” He pointed out.

“Steve, love, drop it. Really.” Tony eyed him with slight annoyance in his eyes.

Peter hid a smile on his lips. “You should check out the steak.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Peter—”

“ _Fifteen dollars?_ ” Steve scoffed. “Tony, this is crazy.”

“It’s really not.” Tony murmured, embarrassed.

“Do you have any idea how much I could buy with fifteen dollars as a kid, let alone _six dollars?_ ”

“Honey, I know—”

“We could pay our water bill with _four._ ”

“That’s really great.” Tony took the steak from his hands and set it down, dragging Steve from the butcher’s section to at least get him to shut up about that. Peter followed suit, keeping the smile upon his lips. He stopped in his steps when he felt his phone vibrate within his pocket, and when he checked the message, he glanced over at his two fathers to see if they were far enough. Looking back to his phone, he read over the message, elbows propped up against the red handle bar of the shopping cart.

_Wade : Are you working tonight? If you are, take off._

Peter’s smile widened a little bit, and he texted back immediately.

_Peter : You know I can’t take off. Can we hang out tonight?_

_Wade : Where?_

“Peter, look! These eggs are a dollar fifty!” Steve called out from down the aisle.

“Uh—Coming!” He shoved his phone into his pocket and sped up to meet Tony and Steve by the dairy aisle.

;

The one good thing about owning a new car was the smell – For the first month or so, a new car usually smelled amazing, and Peter’s definitely did. So of course, he’s been using his old car to deliver the pizzas when he goes to work. He never actually used his new car, unless he was going to visit Wade or go for a quick run to pick something up. Tony had probably put a tracker within the car, anyway, but Peter figured Tony wouldn’t expect Peter to be seeing Wade, especially since it’s been months since Peter had told Wade to leave the compound.

Peter got into the car with a boxful of pizzas, exhaling as he started up the car, and headed place to place to deliver. He knew New York like the back of his hand, so he was usually back relatively quick, but the last address he was given placed a bit of a shimmer to the surface of his eyes.

Pulling up in front of the apartment, Peter took the elevator and went up to the threshold of the apartment room that had asked for the delivery. Sighing, he knocked on the door, and waited. He felt kind of awkward, seeing as he would rather be in his own clothes than a tattered hat and an uncomfortable red polo, but money was money.

Wade opened the door, a frolicsome glint within his eyes and on his lips. “Oh, you are just so darn cute in your uniform.”

“Seriously, Wade, as much as I love delivering here, my boss is starting to worry about you ordering pizzas four times a week.” Peter stepped into the apartment, and Wade closed the door behind him.

“Well, I can’t order more than that. You only work four days a week.” He pointed out.

Setting the pizza down, he took off his hat and tossed it aside. Wade had already approached him, however, and with a smile had Peter’s arms instinctively folded around Wade’s nape, and he pushed himself up onto his toes to press his lips against his significant other’s.

Wade and he had been dating for a couple of weeks now, and it’s been the best couple of weeks of Peter’s life. He and Harry had had a conversation about their relationship, and as sorry as Harry was, Peter told him it would be best if they parted ways. He hadn’t mentioned Wade, however, because he figured it should be left as he said it. Harry hadn’t called him since, and Peter didn’t really seem to be bothered by that.

Normally, he told Tony he was working over time and ended up grabbing food or catching a movie with Wade. He’s found himself progressively starting to want to spend every minute of the day with Wade, and he’s one hundred percent sure he’s never really felt like this about anyone. It was amazing.

Pulling back, Wade planted a sweet but small trail of kisses against Peter’s cheek and jaw, which earned a soft chortle from Peter. He found the other’s eyes, and his smile returned. “So, tonight?”

“Tonight.” Peter nodded, swaying them a bit. Wade seemed to join along.

“Where? When?” Wade asked.

“Well… Tony and Steve aren’t going to be home tonight.” He suggested, the tips of his fingers scanning the small area of skin behind Wade’s neck tenderly. His pupils roamed Wade’s expression, and he seemed quite satisfied with Peter’s words. “Which means you can come over. Natasha never really bothers me, and she’s usually in and out of the compound all day.” Peter explained. “So… Come over?” He smiled.

“You had me at ‘tonight’.” Wade nodded, placing another brief kiss upon Peter’s lips. Peter returned the small embrace.

Peter exhaled so very contently. “I should get back to work.” He mumbled.

“No, no, no, stay here. Forget work. I can’t eat this pizza alone.” Wade whined childishly.

“You’re going to have to.” Peter grinned, slowly pulling away, before he gathered his things and headed back to his car.

;

Tony and Steve had given Peter plenty of hugs before they had left, almost as if they had never left Peter alone before. They told him they’d call him whenever they got a chance, but Peter insisted that they enjoy their dinner night out. That’s what they had told him, anyway – Peter only expected they were doing the complete opposite, and that’s why they’d be home after midnight. None the less, Peter wouldn’t pry. A night alone with Wade was definitely quite nice.

“Natasha’s in the building if you need her.” Tony pointed out, shrugging on his blazer as they were getting ready to leave. Peter stood with them by the front door, probably giving to them their sixth of seventh goodbye.

“Call us if anything happens, son.” Steve gave him a small smile.

“I’ll be fine, guys. Really.” Peter chuckled gently, watching them exit the compound. As soon as they had pulled out of the driveway and drove off, Peter rushed back to his room and shut the door behind him with a satisfied sigh.

He really wasn’t sure what to wear – Should he just stay in his pajamas, or did he have to change into jeans, something casual but not sleepwear? It didn’t matter much, seeing as his sleepwear happened to be sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he wondered what Wade was going to wear. Probably the same thing, a hoodie most likely, and even perhaps a pair of sweatpants, and – Why was he even thinking about this?

Sighing, Peter instead moved to clean up his room. It didn’t take too long, seeing as Peter normally kept his room clean, and he sat down on his bed and sent Wade a text, letting him know that he could come over.

Standing up, Peter paced his room a bit, and he had ended up doing three things – Brushing his teeth because of pure self-consciousness ( even though he felt best that way, anyway ), lighting a candle ( and then blowing it out two more times before he decided on keeping it lit ) and changing ( before he changed back to his pajamas again, anyway ). Plopping himself back down onto the mattress, he ran a hand through his hair to attempt to make it look neater. A couple of minutes later, Wade was knocking on his window.

Smiling, Peter made his way to the large, glass-paneled windows, pulling one open to let him in. “Hey.”

Wade stepped into the room, looking around for a moment. “Ooh. A candle.”

“Yeah. It’s Mistletoe and Fig. I couldn’t find any that weren’t Christmas candles.” He admitted shyly.

Wade kissed his cheek gently, shutting the window for Peter. “Oh, it’s great. I love it.” He smiled in return. “I missed you, baby.”

“I saw you, like, four hours ago.” He pointed out with a chuckle, stepping into his room to sit down at the end of his mattress. Wade took a seat next to him.

“That was way too long. I cried as I ate that pizza.” Wade teased, an arm looping around Peter’s shoulder.

Peter leaned into Wade with a grin. “A shame. You should have recorded it.” He mumbled, turning his chin to look up at Wade.

Wade smirked indistinctly. “That would have been hot, wouldn’t it have been?”

Peter kissed his chin, sighing. “It would have been.” He teased.

Wade, with his arm still wrapped around Peter, slowly brought them back down onto the bed so that the two of them were lying on their backs, Peter’s head rested against Wade’s shoulder. Peter was still looking up at him, however, and Wade was looking right back. He was still shocked that Wade and he had finally found each other again. Being away from him all of those months really, really sucked.

Wade smiled down at him. “What?”

“Huh?” Peter blinked.

“What are you thinking about?”

Peter kissed Wade’s cheek this time, before reluctantly had his leg been lightly thrown over Wade’s waist, all of the way until Peter was able to push himself up to be sitting in Wade’s lap. Wade didn’t move from where he was lying on his back, but Peter was now looking down at him. “Everything.” He commented lightly, taking both of Wade’s hands into his own, playfully trying to pin them down. Peter obviously wasn’t using all of his strength, almost matching Wade’s, creating a balance to allow some form of playfulness to their fake wrestling.

“I hope they aren’t bad things.” Wade said, admiring the view he had of Peter, readjusting their intertwined fingers.

“You aren’t a bad thing.” Peter smiled weakly, releasing Wade’s hands to place his own on either side of the other’s head upon the duvet, leaning down to place his lips against Wade’s. Wade gratefully accepted the kiss, his arms now enveloping themselves around Peter’s waist.

“Depends on the context of the situation.” Wade murmured into the kiss, the speed of his lips now moving against Peter’s in a much more passionate demeanor, and Peter didn’t seem to mind one bit. He returned the kiss at a similar pace, finding it easier to deepen the kiss as he parted his lips in order to do so. Wade pulled back, only for his mouth to fasten at the delicate skin on Peter’s neck, the wetness of his feverish tongue moving smoothly along the epidermis.

Peter felt his breath instantaneously grow stuck within his windpipe at the sensation, because _holy fucking shit_ was Wade an expert at this. As Wade’s top row of beautiful teeth grazed the sensitive skin, a deep sound of obvious content pressed from the back of Peter’s throat, but it was subtle, nearly unnoticeable.

Wade pulled back, this time to admire the soon-to-be-forming red-purplish skin that he had just worked on. However, his eyes were full of gentleness as he found Peter’s. “Are you okay with this?”

Peter nodded, pecking Wade’s lips once. “Definitely.”

“If I go to far, let me know.” Wade whispered. “We should have, like, a safe word. Like… Like—”

“Chimichangas.” 

Wade beamed. “Yes! Chimichangas. I fucking love that.” Wade sighed. “This is why we’re dating.”

Peter’s lips returned to Wade’s as he grinned into the kiss. “Cause of the chimichangas.”

“Oh, hell, yeah. And cause you’re fucking amazing.” Wade sighed, sitting himself up, Peter still in his lap. “Fuck—I know we haven’t been dating really long, and I never want to rush anything, and we don’t have to go _that_ far tonight, but… I really wanna show you how much you mean to me.” Wade whispered, planting a kiss to the spot below Peter’s ear. Peter leaned into each and every one of his touches, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“Then show me.” Peter murmured, returning to Wade a small kiss to his temple.

In an instant, Wade had flipped them over, Peter now placed on his back. Grinning a bit, their mouths had soon reattached, Wade’s calloused fingers slipping underneath the hem of his shirt to massage his sides, gripping the firm muscles of Peter’s abdomen. It was Peter’s turn to pull back, trying as gracefully as possible to mimic the previous movement of Wade’s lips against his neck, and although it probably wasn’t as fantastic, Wade definitely seemed to enjoy it. Peter wasn’t half-bad at placing hickeys, either.

“Oh, _fuck._ ” He groaned quietly, his hands sliding from underneath Peter’s shirt to grasp at his hips and raise them in the slightest, pressing his hard-on against Peter’s stiffening length.

Peter made a sudden and unexpected sound against Wade’s neck as Wade had done so, and to the somewhat new intuition, Peter rolled his hips back against the other’s, where Wade was still grasping his waist. His clasp had tightened, however, in order to bring Peter’s forming erection against his. He had barely been able to finish placing any form of mark on Wade’s skin before the mutant had started untying the string of Peter’s sweatpants, slowly pulling them down until they reached Peter’s knees. The two of them were much too impatient to have them off completely, for as Wade embraced Peter with another kiss, one of his hands groping Peter’s cock through his boxers. Peter attempted to suppress a moan, but it had slipped from his lips just as easily as before, riding his length into Wade’s palm. He felt almost amateur at this, but he had done _some_ stuff with Harry. So he knew his way around.

Biting down onto his bottom lip, he burrowed his face into Wade’s neck. “Gotta be quiet.” He mumbled. “’Tasha’s still in the building.”

“Fuck that. You look _and_ sound pretty. I can’t just not hear you make these sounds.” Wade half-teased, his fingers slipping through the waistband of Peter’s boxers to teasingly thumb at the tip of his member.

The tips of Peter’s digits clasped the cotton material of Wade’s sweatshirt, throwing his head back as his back arched into the touch, just a tad. “Wade…” He mumbled, a mix between pleasure and irritation.

Wade grasped the border of Peter’s t-shirt in attempt to pull it off. Peter assisted, sitting up a little bit so that it could be removed, but he soon returned to his spot lying down. He was biting down lustfully onto his bottom lip as Wade released Peter’s hard-on, depositing a pleasant path of kisses from his collarbone, all of the way down to Peter’s lower stomach. Wade paused for a minute to strip his own top from his body, tossing the clothes aside as his mouth affixed to Peter’s skin once more. He stopped as he was greeted with the elastic band of Peter’s boxers, and his eyes flashed up to the teenager’s to make sure it was all right.

Peter nodded perhaps too eagerly, but at this moment, he didn’t really seem to care all that much. Soon enough, Wade pulled down his boxers, revealing his erection from the plaid fabric. Wade had seemingly admired Peter almost impressively for a moment, flashing him a playful wink, before his lips wrapped warmly around the head of Peter’s cock.

Peter’s lips parted as soon as Wade’s mouth had enveloped the first inch or so, a soft gasp escaping from his throat at the intense, inexplicable sensation. Wade’s tongue swirled mellowly around the tip of Peter’s length, tasting his beaded precum, though it wasn’t much longer until Wade moved his head down, stopping about half-way against the base. Wade was _really_ good at this, and it made Peter wonder if Wade’s ever done this before. He probably has.

Once Wade began to bob his head, Peter’s eyes rolled back into his head, spine curving off of the comforter, resisting the urge to buck his hips into Wade’s mouth and throat. He didn’t want to be very loud, either, but a pleasurable moan had pushed from his lips, quiet ones following suit.

Wade picked up the pace, and after a moment, Peter couldn’t withstand the resistance as he started ride his hips up, fucking Wade’s mouth almost desperately. Wade had gagged only a bit, recovering from the sudden motion rather easily. A thin sheen of sweat coated Peter’s skin, the blossoming flower of passion blooming between his legs and spreading throughout his body. Goosebumps crawled his skin, as he hadn’t held back now, the groans spilling from the back of his throat as his orgasm had skyrocketed. He came into Wade’s mouth, Wade riding his erection against the edge of the mattress until he had released into his sweatpants as well. As he pulled back from Peter’s soon-to-be flaccid cock, a thin line of saliva and releasement created a bridge between his length and Wade’s mouth, though it was disconnected as Wade swallowed Peter’s fluid, the color of his lips a bright cherry and flustered pink.

Peter rested his head back against the pillow as his chest had risen and fallen rapidly, catching his breath as he felt Wade crawl up to him. Peter took the liberty to wrap his arms around Wade, who had now burrowed his face into Peter’s neck, kissing it gently, almost affectionately as opposed to the roughness he held in his actions before. His mind felt clouded, but it was the good kind of clouded, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever want to let go of this feeling. Peter kissed the center of Wade’s rugged forehead, before he pulled him back into the embrace.

“Right now, I think I’m about the luckiest man on Earth.” Wade murmured against Peter’s skin, planting another kiss upon the right side of his chest.

Peter smiled dimly, nosing Wade’s temple. “You’re amazing.” He whispered.

“I know.” Wade murmured teasingly in return. “Also, I should really change my pants.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter starts to worry about if keeping he and Wade's relationship a secret is a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, my goodness. I am so sorry this chapter took me so long! I have had an enormous amount of writers block lately, and I've had no idea how to deal with it. I'm sorry this chapter is so short and so poorly written. I promise the next and last three chapters will be the best, and hopefully the longest. I love all of you for your patience. <3

There was something pure about morning sunlight. It calmly tore through the glass-paneled windows of his bedroom, shining in soft, heavenly streams of milk-white rays, illuminating his room in natural light. Peter’s cheek was rested against his forearm as he laid on his stomach. He had just woken up, eyes in a slight daze, but he knew that Wade wasn’t next to him anymore. He had probably snuck out earlier, when Peter was in deep sleep, and a very large part of Peter was upset he hadn’t stayed. However, if Tony had walked in, it would have been dangerous to be spotted. He shut his eyes and burrowed his face into the pillow. His hair was a curly mess, some of it sticking to his forehead, other parts of it flowing up or to attached to his scalp in a tangled and matted manner.

His eyes, however, as tired as they were, were stuck upon the photo of he and Aunt May, in a small frame upon his night dresser.

_“I’ll only be in the hospital for a couple of days, okay?” Aunt May’s voice rang lovingly as she ran slender fingers through Peter’s hair and planted a light kiss to his cheek. “It’s all going to be okay.”_

_“Just for a couple of days?” Peter asked, wide-eyed and concerned._

_“Just for a couple of days.” May replied, giving him a small hug. Her embrace was weaker than it had been before. She looked tired, and definitely sick. Peter wondered if it was the flu._

_“Can I come with you to the hospital?” Peter asked, taking May’s smaller hand in his own._

_“Sure, sweetheart. But I don’t want you to stay too long, okay? I’ll be fine.”_

Peter turned his eyes away, curling up a bit more in the bed, tugging the comforter up to his chin. There was a knock at his door. He made a slight grumble, loud enough to indicate whoever it is to come in. Tony, as expected, poked his head in.

“Hey, Pete. You feelin’ okay? It’s ten o’clock in the morning. You’re usually out of bed by seven thirty.” He said, an eyebrow raising in response to the sight of Peter.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He reassured, sending to Tony a small, reassuring smile, stretching out his legs a bit. He only had his boxers on underneath, the rest of his clothes tossed carelessly across the room.

“Okay. Well, breakfast is ready. And, uh… Take a shower, kiddo.” Tony half-teased, before his stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Peter’s smile faded only slightly, and he sat up a bit, reaching over to grab his phone. He had a couple of Instagram notifications from Michelle, a couple of texts from Wade that read filthy pick up lines, and a message from Ned asking about seeing a movie. Turning off his phone, he crawled out of bed and grabbed some fresh clothes to take a shower.

;

Sneaking Wade around had started to get a lot harder. They had been dating nearly a month, and although most of the time Peter was left alone, Tony did like to pop his head into the room unexpectedly. One time, Tony had stepped into the room to ask Peter a question, fortunately while Wade was using the bathroom. However, it was starting to stress Peter out. He a) didn’t enjoy lying to Tony and b) didn’t want to have to sneak Wade around literally any time he hung out with him. It was easier when he went into the city to meet Wade, but even then, his paranoia struck him that Tony may have even placed some sort of nanny cam in his suit. He would have been fuming by now, though, Peter figured.

Peter and Wade had just finished up catching a couple of more criminals – They liked to work together now, but they tried to do it as little as possible. If the public caught sight, Tony would be texting him as soon as it would reach the news. Peter could only imagine.

The two of them were sitting upon a rooftop, finishing up a couple of hot pretzels they had bought from the vendors on the streets, when Peter spoke up abruptly.

“Maybe we should tell Tony about us.”

Wade had choked on his pretzels as soon as the words spilled from Peter’s mouth, and he took a moment or two to recover before he ripped off his mask and glanced over at Peter with a wild expression. “What? _Why?_ ”

Peter sighed, shrugging a little bit. “I don’t know. Maybe he’ll accept it. I mean, I’m an adult now.”

Wade exhaled as well. “As much as you’re the greatest human being I’ve ever laid eyes on, and you’re adorable, don’t get me wrong, and I—”

“ _Wade._ ” Peter warned, eyeing him.

Wade rolled his eyes. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“But why?”

“What if he never lets us see each other again?” Wade questioned.

“Well, I thought about that, but I think I can really convince him this time. Maybe we can make him dinner. Sit him down and tell him. I know that you guys have really only met once, and it wasn’t the ideal situation where you met my dad, but… Hopefully I can convince you _both_ to try again.” He said.

“But, Pete—”

Peter pouted in the slightest. “Come on. Please?”

Wade groaned. “Oh, fuck off with your pout. You know I can’t say no to that.” He glanced away grumpily.

Peter smiled. “So, you’ll do it?”

Wade sighed. “Yeah. Sure. Just—Not now, okay? Not this week. I have to mentally prepare myself for this horrible dinner.” He murmured, rubbing his temples slightly.

“Of course.” Peter said, the smile never leaving his lips as he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“I know.” Wade said, taking another bite of his pretzel.

;

“So, why’d you call to meet up, anyway?” MJ asked, taking a bite of her grilled chicken. Peter had asked to meet up with her at a diner, the same one he and Wade had met up in, but different seats. Michelle preferred to sit by the window.

He hasn’t really told anyone about Wade yet. For some reason, he felt as if he could trust Michelle the most with this information – He loved Ned with all of his heart, but Ned probably wouldn’t ever be able to keep his mouth shut around Tony if Peter ever decided to bring him around the compound.

Peter’s knee bounced out of nervous habit under the table. “Well, I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

MJ rose a brow. “Is it about Harry?”

Peter shook his head, resting his elbows upon the glossy tabletop. “No, no, it’s—Uhm, I’ve actually been dating someone else.”

Michelle rose a brow out of both curiosity, and interest. “Tell me about them.”

“Well, it’s a he.” Peter explained, shifting a bit in his seat. “And… I feel like he and I are really good for each other. He’s not exactly a role model… But I like him. _A lot._ ”

She tilted her head. “That’s awesome, Peter. I’m really glad. So, what’s the issue?”

He exhaled. “Tony doesn’t exactly… approve of him.”

“How come?” She asked, sipping at her straw. Peter felt too queasy to finish eating.

“Uh—” He rubbed at the nape of his neck in attempt to think of a way to describe Wade. It was kind of impossible trying to make him seem at least a little positive. “He’s… older.”

Michelle leaned forward a bit, an eyebrow still raised. “Okay. How old?” When Peter was quiet, her nose scrunched up. “Ew, dude, is he, like, fifty?”

Peter scowled. “What? No! He’s, like…” He shrunk in his seat a bit, grumbling. “Like… Twenty-eight.” He mumbled the last part.

She let out a soft laugh. “Twenty-eight?” She looked slightly impressed. “That’s not that bad. I mean… It’s a little weird, but it’s not wrong.” MJ explained.

“You don’t think so?” Peter glanced over at her.

“As long as he asks for consent and isn’t rough with you, I think he’s fine.” Michelle pointed out.

Peter smiled a little bit. “Thanks. So, do you think I should tell Tony?”

She stopped chewing, blinking over at Peter. “Huh?” She swallowed her food.

“I mean, should I tell Tony that he and I are dating?” Peter asked.

“Wait—Tony _doesn’t_ know?” Michelle asked, eyes widening slightly.

“Uh—Well, I haven’t really found the right time…”

“How long have you guys been dating for?”

Peter cleared his throat awkwardly. “Like, a month.”

Michelle placed a hand on her forehead. “Dude, you have to tell him. The longer you drag it out, the more he’s going to freak.”

“Well—We were thinking about making dinner for him. Like, have it ready when he and Steve walk in.” Peter explained.

She sighed. “This is going to be disastrous.” She mumbled. “Okay. I’ll help.”

Peter beamed a bit. “You will?”

“Yeah, why not? I’m interested to see how this plays out. Plus, you probably don’t know how to cook. When’s the dinner?”

“Next Sunday.” Peter explained. “It’s our month anniversary.

Michelle sighed. “You suck at planning. All right, fine. I’ll be there.”

;

The best and worst part about Wade was when he had entered the bedroom unexpectedly. It sucked because they had the possibility of getting caught, but the simple thrill of it placed a smile on Peter’s lips.

Peter’s arms looped around Wade as soon as Wade had slipped into the bedroom from the window. “Wade, what are you doing here? I told you, you shouldn’t come now, they’re home…” Peter murmured, but Wade leaned in to hush him as he sealed Peter’s lips within a loving kiss.

“It’s fine.” Wade whispered. “We just gotta be quiet. I missed you.”

Peter sighed happily, kissing him back. “I missed you, too.” He mumbled into the kiss.

Wade started to back them up, towards the bed. He wasn’t really interested in sex at the moment – He really just did miss Peter.

The back of Peter’s legs hit the back of the bed, and he laughed gently within the kiss, slowly moving to lay back. Just as Wade had crawled over him, however, Tony stepped into the room to notify Peter that dinner was ready. He froze at the sight of the two of them, eyes widened, and Wade slowly looked up and over towards Tony, before he grinned cheekily.

“Hey there, father-in-law.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's definitely not happy, and Peter's never been more embarrassed in his life.

Oh, shit. _Oh, shit._

Peter’s hands pushed involuntarily roughly against Wade’s shoulders to get him off of him as he stood up as quick as he could. When he had, however, he had completely lost balance, gripping the night table for support as many things slid off of the small piece of furniture, clattering to the ground. Peter’s face was pale entirely, and he felt as if he were going to be sick. He glanced over at Wade. Wade had taken the slight push just fine, and an irreverent smirk was playing at his lips. Oh, God. He should have told Wade to leave.

Either way, Peter had been trying to avoid the inevitable for the past few months. Their relationship has only been going on for about a month, so if Peter had kept this up for _months_ , Tony would most likely be even more hurt and angered than he was right now.

Peter couldn’t give any more excuses. He knew Tony wouldn’t take them. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tony cut him off almost immediately.

“No. I don’t want to hear it.” Tony said, ablaze, beady eyes staring daggers almost disappointedly at his adoptive son. He had no idea what to say. Tony’s mind must have been so fogged with anger, so much so that the awkward silence kicked in quite a bit. The tension was uncomfortably thick. “You’re going to come eat dinner with Steve and I. You are going to tell Steve and I everything, and then you’re going to tell Wade to leave.”

Peter’s lips remained parted, and he kept his mouth open like an idiot. Then, finally, he spoke up a little bit. “Okay.”

Tony opened the door for Peter to step out. He wouldn’t even glance in Wade’s direction.

“But I get to tell my story, too.”

“No.”

“But, dad—”

“Dinner’s getting cold. _Go._ ” Tony said, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

Peter nibbled anxiously on his bottom lip. He glanced over at Wade one last time before he stepped out of the room, Tony quickly following after as he slammed the bedroom door shut. Peter was startled at the sudden noise, and as Tony strolled behind him, he picked up the pace of his feet quite a bit in order to reach the kitchen before Tony could possibly, very likely murder him.

“Hey, honey.” Steve looked up from where he was placing the food on the table, though his smile immediately fell as soon as he had noticed Peter’s shameful expression, and Tony’s obvious rage. “What’s wrong?”

Peter sunk down into the chair next to the head of the table, avoiding everyone’s eyes within the room. As much as Tony had every right to be mad at him, Peter still had this undeniable wash of rebellion flow throughout his veins. He’s an adult… Why shouldn’t he be able to date who he wanted?

Tony took a seat, and after all of the food was placed on the table, he took a seat at the head, with Steve across from Peter. Steve was eyeing the both of them, clearly confused. Tony’s stare was comparable to a hawk, because he most definitely wanted Peter to start talking.

He had filled his plate, but he refused to touch anything on it. He was slouched, arms hugging his stomach slightly, and without looking up, Peter murmured, “Tony walked in on me with Wade.”

Steve finished chewing, slowly placing his fork down onto the glass table. He was the only one who had begun to eat. Swallowing his food, his gaze averted to Tony. “Wade Wilson?”

“Yes, Wade Wilson? Who else would it be?”

“I’m sorry, Tony, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, hon. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. You’re really cute, and all, but sometimes I think part of your brain was left in the ice. That sounded nicer in my head. Sorry, I really do love you.” Tony huffed in a frustrated manner, glaring at Peter. “ _Why_ was he in your room?” Tony was almost too reluctant to acknowledge that they kissed.

Peter pawed anxiously at the back of his neck. “Uh—Well—” He cleared his throat, finally looking over at his adoptive father. “Wade and I started dating.”

Steve didn’t look quite as disappointed as Tony was. Or dismayed, rather. He just tilted his head. “How long, son? I mean, how long have you been dating?”

Peter looked away almost immediately. “Y’know… ‘Month.” He murmured the last part.

“What was that?” Tony’s eyebrows furrowed.

“A month.” Peter repeated a bit louder, exhaling.

“A _whole month?_ You’ve been sneaking him around for that long?” Tony asked, eyes widening slightly.

“Well— He doesn’t come here as much… Sometimes when I go out as Spider-Man, though, I, uh—Meet up with him.” Peter admitted shyly. He might as well let it out now. There’s no going back.

“Where is he now?” Steve tilted his head, standing from his chair.

“Hopefully not in Peter’s bedroom still.” Tony said grumpily, turning back to Peter to scold him. He was so angry, he hadn’t realized Steve was already leaving the room to head towards Peter’s room. “Pete, I told you to stay away from him.”

“I tried!” Peter said, voice raising slightly. “I tried to convince myself I’d be happy with Harry. I really did. Wade never replied to my texts, so I stopped texting him. We didn’t communicate until my birthday. And when we did, I was _so_ glad I decided to meet up with him that night, because he and I wouldn’t be dating right now.”

“You’re _eighteen_ , Peter!” Tony spoke in return, just as loud.

“Exactly. _Exactly._ I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. Yes, I’m still a teenager, but I should be allowed to make my own decisions.” Peter said stubbornly.

Tony went to open his mouth, but he heard two pairs of footsteps heading down the hall and into the kitchen. Both voices were very recognizable.

“Oh, my, thank you, Cap’n Crunch. I gotta say, you’re really attractive, but Petey-boy’s my numero uno.” Wade said to Steve as they entered the kitchen. Steve had a hand on his shoulder.

Chuckling, he gestured towards the table. “Thank you, Wade. Take a seat, please.”

Tony’s eyes widened in outrage towards his lover. Steve shrugged.

“He has to eat dinner at some point. I made extra, anyway. Plus, Natasha didn’t join us, so there’s another plate.” Steve pointed out, returning to his seat across from Peter. Wade, obviously, took a seat next to Peter.

“This is real fucking funny, actually—”

“Language.” Steve mumbled.

“Sorry, sir. This is real funny – Cause Pete and I were going to make _you_ guys dinner just for apologizing about how shitty—I mean, terrible—of a person I am.” Wade giggled childishly.

“You were going to make us dinner?” Steve raised a brow appreciatively.

“Don’t. Just—Don’t.” Tony murmured to Steve, exhaling. “Why is he sitting at our dinner table?”

“You said you’ve never met him.” Steve said. “Maybe now you can.”

Peter perked up a bit, looking up and over at Steve. If anything, he would have expected for Steve to lay down the law. Maybe he could have Steve convince Tony, even just a little bit.

Wade was already grabbing the bowl of mashed potatoes, bringing an excessive amount onto his plate. “That’s real nice of you, sir. Really. I mean, I know Stark over there is probably going to beat the heck out of me later, but I want to show you guys that Pete makes me really happy.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. Since when was Wade mature?

“I mean, _really_ happy, if y’know what I mean.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows.

Nevermind.

“You guys had sex?” Tony asked, bewildered.

“Whoa! Hold on, chief. I never said that. All I said was that he makes me happy. Unless Peter had s-…. Well, did the doodle-doo with Harry, then he’s still a virgin.” Wade reassured, stabbing his fork into a large piece of steak, placing that on his plate as well.

“How old are you, Wade?” Steve tilted his head.

“Stop it, honey. We shouldn’t be okay with this.” Tony whispered sharply.

Wade feigned a pout. “It’s very rude to talk about someone when they’re right in front of you.” He said, shoveling some steak into his mouth.

“He’s an assassin. He’s dangerous, Steve.” He continued, ignoring Wade’s comment. “Wait, _that night?_ ” Tony asked quickly, recalling the segment of conversation he and Peter had before Wade and Steve had entered the room. “ _He’s_ why you were gone for the party?”

Peter leaned back against his chair, running a hand through his hair. “Dad…”

Wade rolled his eyes. “I’m not _just_ an assassin. I’m a mercenary, too.” He said, mouth half-full as he grasped the bowl of broccoli from aside.

Peter glanced between the three of them. He had no idea how this was going to go, but he never imagined himself within this situation.

“I spent weeks preparing that party, Peter.”

“Dad, I know, I’m sorry—"

“I’m almost twenty-eight, by the way. Also, these potatoes are really freakin’ fantastic. See? I can refrain from cursing.” Wade nudged Peter playfully, placing some more potatoes into his mouth.

Peter felt the color return to his face, but in a way just as negative. The apples of his cheeks flooded with scarlet embarrassment, and he decided thereon out not to look at anyone at the table.

“Okay. So, you’re about ten years older than Peter.” Steve nodded, cutting a piece of his own steak. 

“That’s _ten_ years older.” Tony said distastefully.

“I’m fifty years older than you, Tony.” Steve smiled a little bit, taking a bite of his food.

Tony sighed once more, finally looking over at Wade. “I’m sure you already know this, but I’m going to say it again. I don’t like you.”

“I’m very flattered.” Wade said, pouring himself a glass of soda.

“I don’t like that you hang around Peter—”

“Oh, we’ve done more than just hang around.”

“—And I don’t like what you’ve done.”

“Well, we’ve all made mistakes. I don’t know too much about you, but I do know your missiles weren’t a pretty story.” Wade sighed, taking another bite of his steak. “I wasn’t a pretty story, either.”

“No one cares about your story. You’re not allowed to see Peter anymore.” Tony spat.

“Dad-in-law, we’re really setting off on the wrong foot. Have you tried your husband’s steak? It’s amazing.” Wade said to Tony.

“Boyfriend’s.” Tony rubbed his eyes stressfully.

“Dad, can you pass the salt?” Peter asked quietly.

Both Wade and Tony reached for the salt. Tony’s eyes widened, and a hard, angered scowl was focused on Peter.

Peter shook his head quickly. “No, I—I don’t call him that—”

“It’s oddly pedophilic, baby, but the name might grow on me. You should try it.” Wade teased, passing Peter the salt shaker.

Peter dropped his face into his hands. He really didn’t feel like eating now.

Steve had no idea what to say. He was completely unsure of how to react to everything.

“Gotta say, the first dinner I’ve had with my boyfriend’s parents has gone really well.” Wade pointed out to break the silence.

“And it’ll be your last.” Tony said, pushing his plate forward upon the table. The only person who really felt like eating now was Wade.

“Tony…” Steve warned calmly.

“What? You’re seriously going to let our son keep seeing _him?_ ” Tony jabbed a finger in Wade’s direction.

Steve tilted his head. “Tony…”

“ _Honey._ ” Tony said exasperatedly. “I’ve warned you about this man many times.”

“Aw. He talks about me. I think we were meant to be, Pete.” Wade grinned proudly.

“Peter, Wade, go into the living room. Your father and I are going to talk about this, okay?” Steve said, looking over at Peter with a gentle expression.

Peter blinked for a moment. There had to be some sort of catch. Instead of pondering on it, he nodded, and stood. Grasping Wade’s hand, he dragged him out of there as quick as he could.

“That had to be one of the best dinners I’ve ever had. Steak was good, too.”

Peter groaned. “Wade, why did you come over? You know I’m supposed to text you when you can.” He said.

“I said I missed you.” Wade tilted his head.

“Wade, I might not ever be able to talk to you again after this. Tony’s stubborn. I don’t know how well Steve’s going to be able to convince him, and I don’t even know why Steve’s giving you a shot. You’re really lucky.” Peter plopped down onto the couch in slight irritation.

Wade sat down next to Peter, bringing Peter close to him. “You’re not angry, are you?”

Peter exhaled, pressing his forehead against Wade’s shoulder. “I want to stay mad at you.”

“But…?” Wade grinned a bit, kissing Peter’s head.

“Well, I kind of am. I’m pouty right now. So, this way you’ll feel bad.” Peter said playfully, tilting his chin up towards his significant other with a smile.

“That’s so not fair.” Wade grumbled, pecking Peter’s lips once.

Peter exhaled. “It is, though.” He said, his head returning to Wade’s shoulder.

Falling into a comfortable silence, Wade kept Peter close to him, almost savoring the moment. If he wasn’t allowed to see Peter anymore, he’d be incredibly upset. He’s been cherishing his time with Peter a lot more.

Peter closed his eyes, snuggled within Wade’s side, so much so that he had barely noticed Tony walk into the room after ten minutes. His eyes opened as he sat up straight, clearing his throat as he looked over at his adoptive father.

Tony looked at the both of them and exhaled. “No more sneaking in from the window.” His eyes settled on Wade specifically now. “You will come through the doorway and greet us, and if we are not home,” He glanced at Peter briefly, “You will text us that he is coming over. The bedroom door stays open at _all_ times,” Tony hesitated at the last part, grumbling as he glanced down at his feet, “And you have to use protection. Always.” He murmured, slowly looking back over at Peter.

Peter had a bright, beaming smile on his lips. He looked from Wade, to Tony, back to Wade, and then back to Tony again, before he untangled himself from Wade completely and rushed over to his adoptive father to throw his arms around him, embracing him tightly. “You really mean it?” Peter grinned into his shoulder, pulling back to look up at Tony.

Tony sighed gently again. “Yes. Please don’t make me repeat it.” He placed his hands on either side of Peter’s head, and kissed his forehead gently, looking over Peter’s shoulder and at Wade.

Wade’s smirk had returned, and he rose a brow in Tony’s direction.

Tony looked back at Peter. “And please don’t go on any of his mercenary activities.”

Peter grinned, and he hugged Tony tightly again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Tony’s own lips had finally fallen into a smile, and he shut his eyes as his own arms wrapped around Peter. “Let’s go finish up dinner.”

;

Peter’s hands shoved into his pockets as the two of them stepped out of the compound’s front door, facing one another. It was dark out by now, the lights from the top of the porch giving them ability to look at one another. Peter looked over at Wade, smiling. “Well, I guess this is better than the dinner we were supposed to prepare them.”

Wade chuckled gently. “We would have burned the food. This is much better.” He smiled, pulling Peter in close to hug him, resting his chin on his forehead.

Peter exhaled contently, pressing his nose into Wade’s chest, humming in a satisfied manner. He was almost hesitant to speak, keeping his face buried as he mumbled a soft, “I love you.”

Wade froze up a bit as Peter had spoken. He hadn’t moved for a while, until he pulled back, his lips connecting with Peter’s. He smiled widely into the kiss, and Peter kissed back. The kiss would have continued if Tony hadn’t obnoxiously knocked upon the glass of the front door to break it up.

Peter laughed gently, sending Tony an apologetic look, before he turned to look up at Wade.

Wade caressed the side of Peter’s face. “I love you, too.” He whispered.

Peter’s smile had only widened, and after their second hug that night, the two of them said goodbye to one another, and Peter waited until Wade left the area completely before he stepped inside. He joined Tony and Steve in the living room, who were in sweats and a t-shirt, watching a movie upon the television.

Peter squeezed himself between the two of them on the couch, resting his temple against Steve’s bicep, the smile never removed from his lips. “You guys are really great.” He said, sinking into the velvet cushion to get comfortable.

“Oh, we know.” Tony said, an arm wrapping around Peter’s shoulders. “This doesn’t mean I still don’t like him.”

Peter grinned, looking over at him. “You’ll learn to love him.”

Tony side-eyed him. “Maybe.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't go Peter's way, and he's quite upset about it. Tony's there to comfort him, and maybe things aren't half bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my longest chapter, and in a way, the first 'final' chapter of this fanfiction. Honestly, I've had so much fun writing this and I'm surprised it's made it this far. I started out with a silly, not so practical idea and have thankfully made it into something large. I've gotten nothing but positive feedback and I couldn't be more thankful for all of you guys. I'm definitely going to write more fanfictions in the future, and if you have any ships you want me to touch upon, leave them in the comments! I'm open to a lot. Hopefully I can improve on my grammar and expand on my vocabulary, but for now, here's my first successful fanfiction. This was a fun chapter to write, and although it took me longest out of all of them, I really enjoyed portraying some of these characters. Do enjoy, my friends.

Michelle burst into a fit of snorts and giggles. “Oh, my God. You two morons got _caught?_ ”

Peter knew more than well that Michelle would enjoy the story. He was pretty sure that entire dinner was a train wreck, but he was only glad they had been so fortunate to have Steve convince Tony to allow Wade and Peter to remain in a relationship. Things, of course, have been rocky since then – Tony isn’t very fond of the idea of Wade coming over, ever, but on the days he does allow Wade to come, it’s just as he said. The two of them spend most of the time hanging out in the living room, which isn’t exactly a problem, seeing as the living room is probably one of the nicest rooms in the compound. Sure, it’s definitely not as private, but Peter was starting to grow in disfavor of remaining in his bedroom. Besides, Peter and Wade didn’t _just_ hang inside the compound. Whatever money Peter had from his job (Yes, that was still pizza delivery. He has an interview on Thursday for the Daily Bugle), he normally spent at diners or Chinese food restaurants to eat at, or sometimes they had even visited a couple of museums within the city. It wasn’t Wade’s favorite thing to do, but Peter was a big fan of the Museum of Natural History, and whenever they _weren’t_ at Delmar’s or Mamasita’s Bar and Grill for chimichangas, they were laying upon the grass areas in Central Park and talking about whatever it was to talk about. It’s the happiest Peter’s been in a long time.

“It isn’t that funny, Michelle.” Peter mumbled but Wade himself seemed to find the entire situation comical.

“Oh, it was fucking hilarious. Tony’s head looked like an angry scrotum about to burst. And Steve had _no_ idea what was going on.” Wade beamed.

“It’s just—It’s just you had this _entire_ dinner planned, three courses, ready to go for next week, and instead of laying low, you two are making out on Peter’s bed while the two of them are home, while they’re about to serve Peter dinner. This is so great. I am going to hold this over you for so long.” Michelle laughed again, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye with the side of her pointer finger.

Peter exhaled, but he had a similar smile on his lips. “I think it’s the most I’ve ever been embarrassed in front of someone. You should have heard the things that came out of Wade’s mouth.” He said, leaning back upon the couch where Wade and he were sitting next to one another. They were inside Michelle’s apartment, Wade’s arm thrown casually around his significant other’s, while MJ had her knees up against her chest, curled upon the arm chair of her living room. An elbow was propped up and rested comfortably against the arm rest, her unruly brown curls tied back into a messy ponytail.

Wade sighed happily, kissing Peter’s head. “It was wonderful. Also, Steve is an amazing cook. I’m assuming he was strong with the ladies back then.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “Actually, no. I’m pretty sure Steve was a virgin until Tony…” He said, voice lowering.

Wade rose a brow. “Well, lucky Tony. That must’ve been painful for Steve, though.”

“Wade…” Peter nudged his shoulder playfully.

“Dude, your dads are Tony Stark and Captain America. I still can’t fathom how awesome that is.” MJ said, occasionally glancing to the television. The news was on, and when she noticed Spider-Man and Deadpool across the _BREAKING NEWS_ headline, she grasped the remote to turn it up.

__

###  _**BREAKING NEWS** _   


__

> _QUITE AMAZING! SPIDER-MAN HAS FOUND A NEW, ADVENTUROUS SIDE-KICK. IN THESE RECENT VIDEOS TAKEN BY MESMERIZED NEW YORK CITIZENS, SPIDER-MAN AND HIS NEW CRIME-FIGHTING FRIEND WORK TOGETHER AS SUPER HEROES TO DO SUPER THINGS. MORE ON THE STORY SOON. DIANA WILLIAMS, BACK TO YOU._

Wade scoffed at the television. “First of all, boyfriends. Second of all, I am _not_ a superhero. Also, Baderinwa is really glowing.”

Peter laughed. “Wade, you are a superhero. You’re stopping crimes without killing anybody. Keeping people safe.”

Wade huffed. “It’s because you don’t want me to kill people. I _really_ wanna shoot some bad guys.”

“Well, do you really want to be known as a murderer?” Peter snuggled a bit closer to Wade with a sigh, keeping his eyes on the television screen, watching the clips civilians had taken of Peter and Wade working together. It brought a bit of a smile to his face.

“Yes.” Wade mumbled quietly. Peter had been too absorbed in the television to care.

“Either way, you guys are cool. I’m pretty sure I saw comics based off of you at the Midtown Comics store in Times Square. Kinda creepy.” Michelle commented.

Peter rose a brow, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen. “You read comics? Aren’t most of them about the Avengers, anyway?” Okay. Yeah, Peter read comics as a kid. And he’s still a teenager. So, yeah. He reads comics.

“I like DC.” MJ shrugged. “Just because Suicide Squad earned a twenty seven percent on Rotten Tomatoes, doesn’t mean the comics suck.” She said, rolling her eyes a bit.

“What?” Peter scowled. “ _DC?_ ”

“Oh, sweetheart, if you don’t like DC, we can’t be lovers anymore.” Wade teased.

Peter sighed. “Whatever. Anyway, we should probably head out. It’s getting late, and Tony gets jumpy when I’m not home.”

Wade grumbled. “Can’t Tony just wait a couple of more minutes?” He grasped Peter’s wrist gently when Peter moved to stand.

Peter smiled a little bit. “No. He can’t. Because then he’s going to call me multiple times, and then blame you.”

Wade frowned grumpily, but he stood nonetheless. “Thanks for having us, MJ. Those bagel bites were really fucking good.”

“See you soon, MJ.” Peter smiled, waving to her as they exited the apartment.

Once they had left the building and approached Peter’s car, Peter hopped into the driver’s seat as Wade placed himself into the passenger seat. “Who knew you were so popular?” Wade half-teased.

“What do you mean?” Peter asked, placing the keys into ignition and twisting them to start the engine. The car rumbled to life as Peter buckled up his seatbelt, turning his head towards Wade.

“Nothing. Just… You have a lot of friends.” Wade pointed out. 

Peter chuckled gently “I have, like, three. MJ, Ned, and—Well… That’s about it. At least, close friends. Liz still lives in Oregon.” He shrugged. “Why?”

“It’s just good you have people there for you.” Wade shrugged.

Peter rested his head back against the headrest, eyes still attached to Wade. He smiled a bit more. “Well, they’re here for you, too, Wade. They think you’re really cool.” He said, before his attention was on the road as he pulled out of the parking spot and started to drive towards Wade’s apartment.

“Yeah?” Wade asked in a mumble.

“Course. Where is this coming from, Wade?” He asked, glancing at Wade briefly as he stopped at a red light. It was rare Wade grew sentimental and serious at the same time, or serious at all.

“Nowhere.” Wade forced a smile, but it seemed legitimately genuine. He was quite the character. “This song is really fucking good, isn’t it?” He leaned forward, turning up the volume of the radio. It was the weather forecast. He was trying to change the subject. Peter didn’t mind.

Peter smiled a little bit. “The best.” He said, starting to drive forward again. The two boys listened to the weather forecast and traffic warnings all of the way back. He gave Wade a kiss and hug goodbye, but couldn’t help but be concerned for Wade, thinking about him the entire drive home.

As he stepped inside, his keys jingled until they were muffled and silenced in the denim of his jean jacket pocket. From the living room, he could hear the news channel on, and – Oh, no.

Peter hadn’t even hung up his jacket as he stepped into the living room, ready to explain himself – Tony and Steve were sitting upon the couch, staring at the television in interest and wonder, their eyes glued to their adoptive son as soon as he had entered.

“Uh—Uhm—Hey, dads.” He said, smiling sheepishly, approaching the couch.

“Hey, bud. Take a seat.” Tony said, patting the spot between them.

Peter nibbled on the inside of his cheek, but he nodded, and slowly took a seat between his fathers. He gave them both hugs hello, but he was looking at Tony, as if he were ready to take a blow to the head.

“Good work today. I see you stopped a bank from being robbed. Saved a lot of lives.” Tony said, smiling a little bit.

Peter blinked. “You’re not… mad?”

“Why would we be mad?” Steve grinned as well, but it was soft, and admiring. He placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, thumb brushing his shoulder blade. “You stopped people from getting killed.”

“But it was with—”

“Wade?” Tony rose a brow. “Yeah, I know. But if no one has gotten killed, that means he’s changing. Which… I like the idea of.” He said.

Peter smiled a bit. Tony was starting to _like_ Wade?

“Invite him for dinner over the weekend. We’ll have a celebratory dinner for being accepted into your new job.” Steve said.

Peter chuckled. “I haven’t even been interviewed yet.”

“Yeah, but they’re going to accept you.” Tony said, kissing Peter’s temple, grasping the quilt from the armrest of the couch, bringing it over the three of their bodies.

“We don’t know that.” Peter mumbled bashfully.

“We’ll see.” Steve said, moving closer to Tony and Peter as they had grown comfortable.

;

“So. Parker. That’s your name, is it not?” The man in front of him cocked an eyebrow in a dramatic, almost impatient manner. He had a thick, black toothbrush mustache and a flattop haircut, lines of gray and white hair streaking the sides of his head and behind his ears. Sticking out of the corner of his thin lips was a lit cigar, though anyone could have sensed the smell when they stepped into the office for the Daily Bugle. Peter assumed it was because people were afraid to. The nameplate upon the desk read J. Jonah Jameson.

“Uh—Yes, sir. Parker. Peter. Uh, Peter Parker.” He said, mentally facepalming. He felt as if he were completely ruining the interview.

“So, what makes you different from all of the others, _eh?_ You ‘gonna be a pain in my ass while you’re here?”

“No, sir, uh—I actually have a few of my photographs, if you want to look—”

“You know, Parker,” Jameson started, standing from his seat to put out his cigar before he had gotten in trouble, popping open one of the windows behind him, “Lotta people come in here expecting they’re _all that._ Like they’re big shots. I ain’t buying it. So, tell me right now why you’re so worth it. Hm? What is it, Parker? Do you take pictures of animals? Cause I gotta tell ‘ya, taking photos of pretty things doesn’t make you a good photographer. Ya gotta take photos of the ugly things and _make_ them beautiful. So, which is it, eh?”

Peter swallowed dryly, clearing his throat. “Actually, sir, I’ve taken a lot of photos of Spider-Man. I wanted to share them with you.”

J. Jonah had lifted his coffee mug to take a sip, but to Peter’s words he had slammed it down onto the desk, coffee popping in small beads out of his mug and splashing onto the surface of the wood. Peter flinched. He leaned forward across the desk, looking straight across and into Peter’s pupils with some form of a wild nature. “Well, why didn’t you say that sooner! Let me see them, Parker!”

Peter smiled nervously, digging into his backpack to pull out quite detailed prints of Spider-Man. As soon as Jameson had seen them, it seemed as if his eyes were going to explode right out of his rectangular, squat head.

“How in the _hell_ did you manage to get these?” He flipped through each of the prints, mesmerized more each time.

Peter reached up, pawing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, I—”

“Doesn’t matter! You’re _hired._ Start Monday and bring me more of these! Oh, I just can’t wait to write all about it.”

Peter blinked. “I’m hired?”

“Yes! Are you deaf, Parker? Now get out of my office and go take some photos!” He spat excitedly, plopping down into his desk chair to start assigning journalists for the campaign.

;

“Well, I told you that you were going to get the job.” Tony said as Steve placed an abundant amount of food onto Peter’s dinner plate. Peter burned it off rather fast, anyway, so Peter didn’t complain. Normally, he didn’t eat this much, but Peter had grown accustomed to it after he had begun to live with Steve and Tony. May and he weren’t the richest of families, which Peter never complained about, either. He was happy with his life then, as was he happy now.

“Come on, guys, it’s not a big deal. It’s not like the New York Times, or whatever.” Peter said sheepishly.

Tony scoffed. “You’re right. It’s the Daily freakin’ Bugle.”

“Wade, would you like some?” Steve offered the bowl of rice to Wade, who was sitting next to Peter upon the picnic table outside. It was nearing sunset, and Tony had decided it was nice enough to eat out of the house. Not too hot, not too cold – As were most summer nights in New York. They were situated on the stretch of wooden patio in the backyard, a navy-blue umbrella covering their heads at the table. 

Wade reached over gratefully for the bowl. “Tony and Steve are right, Pete. It’s a great job. Also, Mr. Stark, I really think you should incorporate more of the ‘f’ word in your sentences. It’ll make you look more badass.” Wade pointed out half-teasingly, scooping some of the rice out of the ceramic and onto his plate with the table spoon.

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’d like to use those words on you.” He mumbled, though a bit of a playful smirk had tugged at the corner of his lips. Wade and Tony had completely teased the hell out of each other every time Wade came for dinner. At first, it had been a bit violently, and much more vulgar words had spilled from the both of their lips – But now, it was harmful goading.

“Now, now, children, time to eat dinner.” Peter said in just as a frolicsome manner, a bit of a smile to his mouth.

“How’d the interview go?” Steve asked, finally taking a seat once everyone had their dinner plates full.

“Well… Not bad. He really likes to cut people off, which is perfect for me, because I never know how to properly finish my sentences. Kind of a scary man, but he’s _very_ energetic about Spider-Man.” Peter grinned a bit.

“Hope not as energetic as me.” Wade mumbled.

Peter laughed. “No. Not like that. I’ve read some of the articles from the Daily Bugle. He’s moreover interested in a smear campaign over Spider-Man, rather than… Well, you know, admiration.” He said. “So, I’m taking quite a bit of self-portraits for this job. I’ll make sure I’m glowing in each of my photos.”

Tony rose a brow. “You sure getting paid to trash yourself is a good idea, kiddo?”

Peter shrugged. “It isn’t a big deal to me. It’s really good money, anyway. Plus, I like taking photos.”

“I didn’t know that.” Tony said. “Since when were you into photography?”

Wade glanced at Peter. Even _Wade_ knew Peter liked that kind of stuff.

“Well… I’m quiet about it, I guess.” Peter said, looking away. Did Tony really not know that? He owned a camera, even carried it around sometimes – There were _plenty_ of hilarious photos of Wade on there, too.

“Hm. Well, I’ll have to look into that. What kind of camera do you like?” Tony questioned.

“Oh… No, dad, seriously, it’s—Heh, it’s fine. I have one, and I like it.” Peter reassured.

Tony grumbled reluctantly. He was going to get Peter a camera, anyway. “Anyway, we’re watching our weekly family movie after dinner. Wade, you have plans, right? You have to go?” He said, looking straight at Wade.

Wade slowly glanced up from his plate to look at Tony. He very briefly stole a look from Peter, who looked extremely apologetic. Tony could be a bit blunt sometimes.

“Uh—Yes. I have some important Rupaul’s Drag Race to attend to.”

“Good. Cancel it. You’re watching the movie with us.” Tony said, taking a bite of the grilled chicken Steve had barbecued.

Wade blinked, looking at Peter again. Peter rose a brow impressively. It was the first time Wade was ever allowed to stay for anything family related, aside from dinners. Wade and he had now been dating for over a month, but Peter thought it would take years before Wade was finally invited. Peter thought that was a very, very big step up. “I’m watching it?”

“With us, yes.” Tony stared over at him.

“Forget the drag race, Wade. This movie will be better than car racing.” Steve said innocently.

“Oh—No, honey…” Tony shook his head, placing a hand over Steve’s.

“What?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, I’d love to stay.” Wade said, in all seriousness. “…Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Pass me the rice, will you? Make yourself useful.” Tony said, tone returning to its sarcasm once more.

Peter couldn’t hide the smile as they continued to eat dinner.

;

 

“I can’t believe it. He invited you to watch a movie with _us._ ” Peter laughed, leaning back into the seat of the booth. It was the morning of the next day, sleepy Sunday New Yorkers half-awake within the café typing away the probable report they had due the next day, or a ‘Thank You’ card they hadn’t sent out yet. Peter, however, was jacked up on hot chocolate, his hair a neatly brushed back but semi-messy appearance. Wide eyes held excitement within the hue of his irises as he gazed over at Wade with pure affection.

“I know. Kill Bill is kind of gory, though. I’m surprised Steve powered through it.” Wade teased. “But I fucking loved it. So much blood. Amazing.” He exhaled in a satisfied manner.

“Wade, that’s not the point. Tony’s finally starting to like you. And I mean, enjoy your presence. This was the first time he wasn’t eyeing us the entire time to make sure we weren’t even so much as making eye contact. I mean… We were even able to _hold hands_ in front of him.” Peter rested his chin in his palm.

Wade grinned a little bit. “Your hand was very warm. It was nice. Like chicken noodle soup.”

“Wade…” Peter gave him a slight look.

He laughed. “Okay, okay. I have to admit, I didn’t really expect that. I thought he was going to kick me out before I could get any food into my mouth.”

“Me, too. I’m really glad he let you stay. I hope they invite you for dinner again soon. I might just start doing it myself to see how Tony reacts.” Peter said playfully.

“I’m going to wear a shirt that says, ‘Your son calls me Daddy, too.”

“Oh, please don’t. He’s going to have a heart attack like he nearly did the first time you implied that I call you that.” Peter rubbed at his eyes, but the smile remained. 

“That was funny.” Wade mumbled.

“It really wasn’t.” Peter said, but he laughed gently anyway.

Wade beamed. “It’s nice to see you in a good mood, you know. It’s actually really fucking adorable.”

Peter felt the skin around his cheeks begin to rise in heat and grow in color. “Wade…”

Wade was already ready to open his mouth, but it was cut off by the sound of shouting and gunshots about a block or so down. Peter had already felt his hair raise, and before the two of them knew it, they were out of their seats after they had tossed a twenty and a ten-dollar bill onto the table, and were heading towards the sound, Peter stepping into an alleyway to lose the clothing and reveal his suit underneath. Pulling on his mask, Wade was already in his suit and rushing towards the sound, Peter _thwip_ -ing from building to building to keep up with his significant other. “Karen, give me something.” Peter piped up.

“It seems as if these men have come into a disagreement – A violent one as well. All with criminal records, I detect.” Karen said calmly.

When they had arrived at the scene, it was worse than they could have imagined – Men were yelling, aiming guns at each other, and he had even noticed a couple of grenades attached to a man’s belt. A couple of the men were rushing into their car to get away from the others, who were currently unloading whatever bullets they had in their gun to stop them from leaving. Peter had webbed up a man’s gun, aiming for the sleek black car that had sped off so very quickly, but he had missed it by an inch or so due to how fast their car had sped away. Slightly frustrated, Peter tugged the gun harshly towards him and then back into the man’s face, sending him to the ground as the others now had began to shoot at him. Wade had already stepped forward, deflecting the bullets from hitting Peter quite easily (with his own body, of course), but one of them had shot Wade directly in the head, all of them rushing towards their own car in attempt to beat the others from getting away. Peter was much too concerned in Wade’s wellbeing as Wade collapsed onto the concrete, but as soon Wade’s ability to talk had returned after the healing process, he garbled out a, “G’get them.” Peter hopped up to his feet, squeezing Wade’s hand before he had hopped onto the truck of the nearest car, webbing himself from building to building. He already had spotted one of them, and once he had reached the van, he landed on the top.

As expected, many bullets began to spit through the top of the car, shooting at Peter. Peter hung from the side, poking his head into the open window, the white eyes of his suit narrowing. “Wow. You guys shouldn’t be handling these guns. Especially if you aren’t capable of using one.” He slid into the van, his feet connecting with one of the men’s chest with a grunt. The other man was attempting to shoot Peter, a web shooting straight and up into the criminal’s face, preventing him from talking, or seeing. “Sorry, it’s just better _not_ to hear you talk.” Peter moved his way into the front seat, where the man driving was still trying to shoot at him. Peter’s fist connected with the man’s face, and he webbed up his eyes as well, taking a hold of the wheel as he pulled them over to the side of the highway where cars could easily avoid them. After webbing up their hands and feet, Peter crawled out and hopped up onto the hood of the car.

He had spotted Wade about three lanes over, two hundred feet down the highway from where he was, and he took no time in transferring himself from car to car to get over there. He was aware Wade could get carried away, especially with a gun between his fingers, and as soon as he had made it, he slid into the third row of the back seat. Wade was in the second, ducking punches and kicking the shit out of the two men next to him. He had even torn out one of the earrings of one of the men, who was currently wailing in pain at the blood spewing from his earlobe.

Peter took the easy way out – Preventing any more guns from being shot, webbing up weapons, faces, hands, feet – But Wade enjoyed a more violent method. The car was spiraling out of control and six more men were squeezed into the van, trying to fight Wade off. Peter extended his wrist to keep the car steady and have a stable web on the wheel, but one man had slashed his wrist, cutting through the skin and probably just missing the vein. Peter gasped at the sudden gash, seeing as he hadn’t expected it – Tony had improved the armor in his suit quite a bit, yet the blade cut right through his suit, and arm.

Wade’s eyes were on fire behind the mask as soon as he had seen Peter’s blood begin to spill, because he had taken out his gun and cocked it, aiming it at the man who had slashed Peter – Except, he really wasn’t sure who that was… So instead, Wade let the bullets fly, some of the men dodging behind the seat, trying to connect their fists and weapons with Wade. Wade pushed himself up onto his knees, preventing most of the temporary injuries, but a couple of the criminals had slashed at him with their knives or sent a couple of bullets into his legs and arms.

“ _No!_ We aren’t killing anyone!” Peter insisted, wondering how far Wade would actually go this time.

“Activating instant kill mode.” Karen spoke up.

“What? Karen, no! Not now!” He webbed up the three men in the back, fists connecting with their guts and heads as he hopped over to the second row, trying to nudge Wade’s gun in the opposite direction of any of the men’s heads. Someone had slashed at his knee, but Peter tried to ignore the pain, a sudden, vigorous burning sensation evident where the blades had come into contact with his skin. A couple of windows shattered, the entire van squealing over into the white Honda minivan next to them, who beeped very violently and came to a halting stop. The man in the front kept going, occasionally glancing back to shoot at Deadpool and Spider-Man.

Peter’s head spun a bit. This was way, way too crazy, and he didn’t like it at all. Something at the back of his brain held a constant reminder that this wasn’t going to end well. Glass had entered through the open wound on his thigh, painstakingly growing lodged into bleeding skin.

Peter ducked another bullet as best he could, finally taking care of the two men in the middle seat. It was a bit complicated, seeing as four people were squeezed into a three-seater, but it didn’t seem to matter, for Peter was interested in stopping the criminals. That was that. He had noticed a couple of duffel bags in the back of the first car, and he wondered how horrible this situation was going to turn out.

His questions were answered as Wade whipped out a second gun. “All right, fucktards. Who slashed Spidey? I want to know so I can put holes in your fucking eyes and put up a nice display at the local necrophiliac cults in town.” Deadpool spat.

“No one gives a fuck about your boyfriend, asshole. And if it makes you feel any better,” The man shot at Wade’s shoulder, trying to get closer to aim for the head. Wade seemed unphased by the bullet entering his body, “I slashed his arm. Talk to us again like that, and it’ll be his fucking head ne—”

Wade didn’t hesitate one bit to pull the trigger, and instantly, the bullet entered the man’s brain. Peter had been busy webbing up the driver, but he hadn’t even gotten a chance to safely bring the car away from the sight of the innocents when his head shot over to the loud gunshot. His eyes widened when he had noticed Wade had just shot and killed a man. “Wade! _No!_ No, no, no, no—” He was cut off as the driver lost control with the web still over his eyes. The car had first slammed into the ever-speeding Hostess cakes truck besides them, the truck rolling over into the other lane before the van they were in had flipped over, landing on its backside and crushing Peter’s smaller frame against a seat. He gasped for hair, the head of the leather passenger’s seat lodged against his diaphragm, vision further clouding into unconsciousness.

Everything else was a blur. Police sirens were wailing in the distance, growing nearer each second in Peter’s ever-ringing ears. He felt the ability to breathe again – He tried to squint through the haze of his pupils, but all he had seen was a billow of darkened red. He was too out of it to comprehend Wade had just lifted the seat from Peter’s body and was dragging him out and away from the scene as fast as he could.

After that, everything went black.

;

The unanticipated soreness had arisen in his lower back and abdomen when Peter had finally awoken. He hadn’t been brought back from his sleep with a start, but rather, the lids of his tired eyes had opened slowly to reveal the compound’s medical bay. He groaned near-silently, his eyelids falling shut again. He didn’t dare move. He knew he would be healed by tonight, or tomorrow morning, but for now, everything kind of hurt. Especially the spot just below his chest. When he had opened his eyes again, he spotted Wade in the chair next to him, along with a big set of concerned eyes. Peter slowly reached out, taking his hand, squeezing it softly. “Are you okay?” He asked in a small whisper.

Wade looked right back at him, love swirling in his expression. “Me? Pete, I’m fine. Those men really fucked you up.”

“I’m okay.” Peter grunted, moving to sit up a bit more, but his half-lidded expression was brought to life as his eyes flew open to the max, looking straight at Wade. “Oh, my God, We—We _killed someone._ ”

“Peter, calm down—"

“ _Calm down?_ ” Peter scoffed, though just as he had moved to try and get off the bed, he was met with a violent, hacking cough, and he moved to lay back down. The sharp pain heightened in his chest. Wade placed a gentle set of hands on Peter’s shoulders, slowly moving him back in assistance to relax again.

“Pete, it’s okay. Just—”

“It’s not okay. I told you. I _told_ you. I didn’t want to kill anyone.” Peter groaned, placing his face into his hands. “Oh, God. Oh, God, the News—” He reached for the remote to the small flat screen television situated towards the left corner of the medical bay and turned on the television to Channel One News before Wade was able to stop him.

__

###  _**BREAKING NEWS** _   


> __
> 
> “…AND AS YOU CAN SEE HERE, THE CRIME SCENE IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS – HUNDREDS OF SHELLS OF BULLETS HAVE BEEN FOUND, MULTIPLE BLADES ON PERSON OF EACH OF THE CRIMINALS, AS WELL AS GUNS, CASH, AND ILLEGAL DRUGS. ONE OF THE CARS HAVE BEEN CAREFULLY PULLED OVER IN THESE VIDEOS OF SPIDER-MAN, BUT IT IS A MUCH DIFFERENT SCENE IN THIS TAPE SENT IN BY THE TEENAGER IN THE BACK OF A CAR WHO WAS ABLE TO SHOOT THIS HORRIFIC MOMENT. THE SECOND VAN HAD, IN FACT, FLIPPED OVER COMPLETELY. FOUR MEN HAD DIED FROM THE IMPACT OF THE CRASH, BUT ACCORDING TO RECENT DISCOVERIES, THE FIFTH MAN’S DEATH WAS AN ACT OF MURDER. COULD SPIDER-MAN AND DEADPOOL BE THE DANGEROUS, MERCILESS VIGILANTES SOME PEOPLE PUT THEM OUT TO BE? MORE ON—" 

Wade had shut off the television, placing the remote out of reach of Peter. Peter’s eyes were filled to the brim with angered tears, and his chin turned towards Wade slowly. “Why?”

“Peter, he could have killed you. He almost did…”

“—It was a small blade wound, Wade. I would have been fine! People are going to have these horrible views of us now—And oh, God. Tony. _Tony_ is going to be so angry once he finds out someone died on our account.”

“It was my fault, though.” Wade mumbled.

“That doesn’t make it any better, Wade. He was just starting to like you. _Trust_ you. He was happy that you were starting to change your ways. Does he know yet?”

“He just… He knows we were in the crash.” Wade said lightly.

Peter huffed, sinking down into the pillow as much as he could without hurting himself. “This is terrible. This is so, so terrible. I told you not to kill anyone, Wade…”

“I know. You always do, but… I don’t know. When I saw that someone had hurt you, I got tunnel vision. I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that one of those men had done that.” Wade said.

“That didn’t mean you had to _kill_ him, Wade. He could have paid the price by rotting in a jail cell.” Peter placed his face in his hands. “I think you should go.”

Wade blinked, looking over at him slowly. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Just—I’ll call you tomorrow, or something. Just… I need some time alone right now.” Peter said, his face still in his hands, refusing to look over at him.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he had finally removed his face from his hands, but when he did, Wade was gone. It was nearing sunset, and Peter figured he had been asleep for a while before he spoke to Wade. With a frown, he blinked away the tears that had been threatening to spill from his eyes and tried to relax both his body and mind. He shut his eyes.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony’s voice flooded his ears after a moment.

Although it seemed like just a few minutes, it wasn’t. Peter’s eyes flew open. The sky outside was a deep, dark and navy blue, few stars twinkling within the (most likely) midnight sky. He must have fallen asleep again. His gaze settled upon Tony almost sadly. He reached out with both of his arms towards his adoptive father.

“Okay. Hey, it’s all right.” Tony smiled, standing from the chair Wade had previously been occupying. Once Peter had finally scooted over, Tony slid into the spot next to him, his arms wrapping lovingly around his adoptive son. “You’re okay.”

Peter felt almost childish, but he didn’t care. Even if he didn’t shoot the bullet, he didn’t care. He never wanted anyone to die on his watch, not even a criminal. He pressed his face into Tony’s neck, doing his best to place his sore body comfortably against the other’s. After much awkward and uncomfortable shifting, Peter relaxed entirely.

“What happened, Pete? Talk to me.” Tony said, a hand smoothing up and down Peter’s back. Peter had just noticed now, but he had been changed from his suit into a pair of pajamas.

Peter frowned, keeping his head rested against Tony’s shoulder, towards the crook of his neck and collarbone. “Everything—Everything just spun out of control. I wanted to stop the car, but there were so many men, and _Wade_ … Wade, he—…” Peter trailed off, biting down onto his bottom lip.

“Did Wade kill that man, Peter?” Tony asked. He didn’t seem at all angry, or at least, not at Peter.

Peter was quiet, before he made a spur-of-the-moment decision. “No.” Peter lied, breathing in shakily. “I shot the gun.”

Tony frowned. “Pete…”

“It was an accident. I—I was trying to prevent it from happening, but when I webbed it, and tugged it in the other direction, I must’ve hit the trigger. It went straight through another man’s skull.” Peter squeezed his eyes shut.

“Peter.” Tony said, more firmly this time.

Peter slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Tony.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.”

Peter blinked. “I—… I’m not sure what you’re talking about—"

“Wade came to us directly after he had brought you here. Apologized for about an hour. Asked for forgiveness and said he was just trying to protect you. I was extremely angry, and Steve was nearly as upset. And I don’t like the idea that Wade killed that man, either.”

Peter looked away, the frown remaining on his lips.

“But he was protecting you. And if it were up to that man… He would have killed you just to get a reaction out of Wade.” Tony said.

“I never wanted anyone to die.”

“I know that, bud. You have a good heart. Me, unfortunately, I’ve made enough bad decisions but have had enough experience to know that not everyone makes it out alive. And it sucks. I mean, it really, really blows. So many innocent lives are lost. This man’s life, innocent or not – Death probably wasn’t a worthy punishment. It isn’t, for anyone. Life in prison, maybe.” Tony spoke softly. “Unless he killed you. Then, yeah, execute.”

Peter cracked a small smile. “Dad…”

“Okay, okay—You know where I’m getting at.” Tony smiled, running a hand through Peter’s soft hair, planting a kiss to his forehead. The facial hair of his beard tickled Peter’s smooth skin. “Point is… Wade loves you a lot. I can see that myself.”

Peter was quiet, fumbling with the fabric of Tony’s shirt.

“And your boss is probably going to have a kick out of what had just happened this morning. So, watch out for that.” Tony grinned.

“Oh, man. I forgot I start tomorrow.” Peter said, groaning gently.

“Actually, I called him. Said you were in the crash and had gotten _plenty_ of close hand photos of the scene. He’s offering you a lot of money and the next two days off for them. Karen took plenty of photographs, by the way, she’s a darling.”

Peter cracked a smile again. He relaxed entirely within Tony’s embrace. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Tony whispered in reply, grinning himself. “Get some rest, kid. I’ll be here when you wake.”

Peter was going to agree, but he was already slipping back into a deep sleep.

;

Two days had passed, and Peter had not called Wade yet. He was sitting on his back, most of his body healed by now, eyes staring straight up and ahead at the ceiling in thought. It was more of a place to process his mind, if anything – He focused best when operating in blank space. His forearm was rested over his forehead, and he breathed out, occasionally glancing at his phone in wonder if he should finally call Wade. Wade didn’t deserve to be ignored, but… Talking to Wade again seemed almost distant in his mind. His eyes continued to avert from the ceiling to his cellphone, but eventually, they had halted upon the small white envelope given to him by Wade the day they made up about a month and a half ago.

Peter slid off of his bed and approached his desk, plopping into the seat and grasping the envelope. He hadn’t opened it yet. He wasn’t sure why, either. Maybe he feared it was some big goodbye, even after the two of them had made out in a dark alley and had eaten chimichangas afterwards. It was silly, but Peter was sure he was just waiting for the right moment. For reassurance.

Peter sloppily tore the folded that sealed the envelope but was careful as he pulled out the letter – It wasn’t a card. Just a sheet of loose-leaf, filled from top to bottom with his words. Peter was hesitant, but he had begun to read.

_Dear Peter,_

_Well, happy birthday. You’re eighteen now. Which means you’re an adult, but you still can’t drink, or get into a bar without being twenty-one. You’ve technically been able to get into rated R movies since you were seventeen, so nothing special about that, but hey, at least you can finally get a real license, rather than some shitty junior’s license you most likely got from Drivers Ed. Unless you didn’t take Drivers Ed. ~~Who the fuck knows? I know I don’t~~. Anyway, we haven’t spoken in a while, and it has taken me a bit to sit down and write this. It would be kind of embarrassing if I ended up writing this, and you refused to meet up with me, anyway. I totally would have snuck into your room to slide it under your pillow like some badass male tooth fairy. Except, the tooth fairy doesn’t exist, and she has a weird mouth kink. Okay. Maybe not the tooth fairy. I think I’m getting off topic with this. Going back to what I originally wanted to get to, I wanted to say I’m sorry. You really do mean the world to me, Peter. When I had first met you, I got to admit, I was going to be a little disappointed if you were some crack head who just decided to lay down and sleep on the street. Trust me, I see a lot of fuck faces who do that. But then you spoke, and boy oh boy were things different from there. This is going to sound cheesy as fuck, but from the day I’ve met you, you have never stopped cycling through my mind. Each and every day we didn’t speak, I would think of you and hope that you were doing okay. I’m sorry I ignored your texts. ~~You don’t deserve me.~~ You deserve better than me. And so, I thought, eventually, you’d give up on me. Let me go, because it would be for the best, and I wouldn’t have to corrupt you any further. I just can’t keep away from you. I don’t know why, but you’ve held a special place in my non-existent, ninety-eight percent fuck-tard emotions heart. Maybe this should be some sweet summer-fling, high school bullshit fanfiction between Charles and Erik. Except, it’s one about us, and we’re about eight times sexier, and neither of us are wearing any clothes. I wish I could have told you this in person, but I wouldn’t have been able to express myself as well. You are  everything,  Peter. Please, never forget that._

_Sincerely,  
Wade Wilson. _

Peter finished off the note, trying to spark a decision on which emotion he should feel – Spending no time, he placed the letter back onto his desk, grabbed his shoes and keys, and left the compound.

;

When Wade had opened up the door to his apartment room, he was taken off guard at first. For starters, he hadn’t received a single text from Peter, and so he didn’t expect for him to be coming over. Second of all, Peter didn’t look angry – In the slightest. That was good news. Thirdly, before Wade could even get a word out, Peter slammed the door shut, stepped forward, and placed his lips against Wade’s as his arms swung around the other man’s shoulders, pressing his body flush against his lover’s.

Wade, who made a sudden noise of surprise, didn’t resist one bit. If anything, his fingers slid down and around Peter’s slim waist, the tips of his digits gripping into his skin in a fervent manner. Peter seemed to be reciprocating the feeling, for even the vigorous movement of his lips in sync with Wade’s proved Peter’ ever-building ardent behavior.

Peter pulled away briefly, looking up with pupils of wholeheartedness. “Tony told me what you said. And I love you.” He whispered. “And I’m not mad.”

Wade smiled, the rounds of color within his eye sparkling with similar dedication. “I love you, too. You have no idea how much I do.”

An easy smile appeared at the corners of Peter’s thin, now somewhat cherry-red lips, and he had pressed forward once more, placing himself on the tips of his toes to kiss Wade once more. Wade had begun to back them up, towards the couch. Wade had tidied up quite a bit, and although he wasn’t the best at it, it was relatively clean. It’s not something Peter had pondered on, however, because Wade had brought them down onto the velvety cushions, Wade’ back coming into contact with the material while Peter made himself comfortable in Wade’s lap. Their kiss had never broken, his breath growing unsteady as he continued to move his lips in a vehement manner against Wade’s.

Wade’s hands slid up Peter’s back slowly, before his fingers trailed back down, and gripped the denim material of Peter’s jacket. Peter broke the kiss briefly to shrug it off, tossing it aside, and matching his mouth with Wade’s again. Exhaling contently, Peter was already working to untie the knot of Wade’s sweatpants, struggling slightly, but nonetheless, he removed the fastened strings, pausing briefly in their undressing to sketch more eagerness into the kiss.

A soft breath of gratification pushed past Wade’s lips. He had missed Peter. It had only been a couple of days, but the constant reminder that Peter could make the abrupt decision to leave him any day clawed at the walls of his brain. Peter’s presence was an excellent reassurance. His hands moved slowly to Peter’s shirt, tugging on it just a bit impatiently. Peter broke the kiss again, simply to remove the graphic t-shirt he had been wearing underneath. He hadn’t gotten out of that phase yet, but the shirts fit him and his personality rather well. Wade wouldn’t change one thing about the other boy.

Peter started to lift Wade’s shirt as well, and although Wade had to sit up a bit in order to peel it from his body, Peter was patient. They had managed to get it off, his hands smoothing up Wade’s rippled abdomen. In a way, he admired Wade’s skin. Wade had told Peter many, many times how much he despises the sight of his epidermis, but Peter couldn’t care less. Wade was unique. Peter wouldn’t change anything about Wade, either.

Peter smiled, brushing his fingertips over each ab. He found Wade’s eyes. “I love you.” He whispered, almost mouthing the words.

Wade’s smile returned, and he sat back up to attack Peter’s lips, kissing him zealously. “I love you more.” Wade mumbled into the kiss. Peter’s arms slowly looped to return around Wade’s shoulders, whilst Wade’s own hands clasped Peter’s waist, gripping his hips impassionedly. Peter experimentally slipped his tongue into the kiss, bringing it against the wet warmth of Wade’s own. Wade made another sound of obvious pleasure, his top row of teeth carefully but lovingly biting down onto Peter’s bottom lip, nibbling the tender skin dotingly.

Peter’s body was slotted perfect against Wade’s, and finally, Peter’s hands skimmed Wade’s waist, gradually removing the pair of sweatpants wrapped around Wade’s hips. Wade lifted himself a bit to remove them completely, kicking them off and away from the couch, left in only his boxers. Reaching down, Peter undid the belt to his jeans, yanking it from its loops and dropping it to the carpet, before he popped the button from his jeans and pulled down the zipper, pushing himself up with his knees to remove the pair. Left in a plaid pair of underwear as well, Peter settled back down into Wade’s lap, his forehead rested against Wade’s. His eyes were open, gazing deeply into Wade’s set of dark, mysterious pupils.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Wade asked in a whisper feeling up and down the skin on Peter’s sides and back.

Peter nodded slowly. He’s never had sex before, but he was ready. If anything, he was hoping his first would be Wade. “I’m ready. I promise.” He said. “Uh—Do you have, uhm—”

“Lube?” Wade asked with a soft laugh. “Yes.” He kissed Peter’s cheek, leaning back and reaching towards the small drawer within the side table next to the couch, grasping the metal handle bar and pulling it open. Grabbing the bottle of lube, he shut it, and moved to sit back up.

That earned a soft laugh from Peter. “You keep lube in your living room?”

“How could I not?” Wade grinned as well, planting another kiss against Peter’s neck. “It’s going to be a little painful at first. I’m going to stretch you out, okay? If it gets to be too much, you need to let me know. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, sweetheart.”

Peter nodded again, breathing in. “Okay.” He whispered, slowly lifting himself up once more to remove his pair of boxers. Wade was coating two fingers with the lube inside of the plastic container, but as Peter undressed, he was eyeing him with nothing but absolute warm approval, and attachment. Finding Peter’s eyes, he smiled, and pecked his lips twice.

“You’re so beautiful.” Wade sighed dramatically. “Alright, baby. Sit up a bit.” He instructed gently, to which Peter followed, pushing himself up on his knees, still hovering over Wade.

Wade slid one hand around Peter’s bottom, groping it amorously. Peter exhaled the breath he had been holding in, nodding a little bit in order to let Wade know it was okay. Wade pressed one lubed finger against Peter’s opening, the air in Peter’s lungs halting for a moment at the feeling. He had his hands on either side of Wade’s head, the pads of his thumbs brushing along Wade’s rugged cheekbones. Slowly and as careful as could be, Wade’s middle finger entered Peter’s body. Wade was right – At first, it was a bit uncomfortable, and Peter had to adjust to Wade’s finger slowly sinking into his body. He bit his lip, feeling Wade’s knuckle press against his hole, adjusting to the awareness of it.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay.” Peter smiled, kissing Wade’s nose gently, shifting a bit on his finger.

“I’m going to add another one, okay?” Wade whispered, chin tilted up at Peter.

Peter nodded, hands moving down to grip Wade’s shoulders in preparation.

Just as Wade had said, he felt Wade’s second lubed finger enter his body, the ring finger now pressing forward and creating pressure between Peter’s legs. It was a bit disagreeable at first. But once Peter was sure he had grown comfortable, Wade’s fingers began to shift into of his body, thrusting cautiously in and out of Peter’s tight entrance.

Peter gasped quietly, biting down onto the inside of his cheek as Wade’s fingers began to move. Everything had been fine – In fact, it felt pretty good. Peter was growing almost content with the feeling when the very tip of Wade’s fingers skimmed Peter’s prostate, and Peter’s lips parted, a suppressed moan now escaping his opened mouth.

Wade grinned a bit, kissing Peter’s jaw as he began to move his fingers faster – This time, his fingers thrusted directly into the prostate each time, and Peter’s moans had rather easily increased in volume and length. Peter pressed his forehead against Wade’s temple, groaning as hot breath puffed against Wade’s earlobe, slowly beginning to ride Wade’s fingers. “Nnfh—Wade…” Peter moaned, tightening around Wade slightly.

“Relax, love.” Wade mumbled, pressing his lips against Peter’s neck. His fingers curled, compressed against Peter’s prostate gland, and he allowed them to remain there for a couple of seconds in order to spur pleasure from Peter’s body.

Peter gasped, a bit louder this time, starting to move his hips vigorously against Wade’s fingers. If Wade hadn’t pulled out sooner, Peter was sure he would have came on the spot.

Wade removed his fingers, lips still attached to Peter’s neck, grazing teeth and tongue against his pulse point. While he was busy with that, he lubed up his own throbbing length, Peter relaxing for a moment while Wade did so.

Wade lifted Peter again, almost as a forewarning that it was for real this time – Peter took the signal easily, his hands remaining on Wade’s shoulder, gazing down at him with a pair of lustful eyes. Wade’s held similar ardor and intensity. Attentively, Wade lowered Peter down onto his length, stopping at the tip to allow Peter to grow comfortable with his member first. Peter felt the head of Wade’s cock press against his taut opening, moving his teeth to instead bite down onto his bottom lip once more. Keeping his eyes on Wade’s, he lowered himself the first inch or so, breath entering his throat almost shakily as his entrance spread with Wade’s cock. It was much bigger than a pair of fingers, and it had taken him a bit longer to adjust.

“You can go slow.” Wade reassured, hands sliding down to Peter’s waist once more.

Peter nodded. He was planning to. Taking in a couple of more inches of Wade’s cock, it was painful, at first. He felt his body expand, the wall of constraint between his legs slowly collapsing, but eventually, it started to feel good. Before Peter knew it, the tight warmth of his entrance was enveloping the entirety of Wade’s hard length, Peter’s somewhat swollen lips still slightly parted, a dashing alizarin crimson.

Once Wade was sure Peter was stable and prepared, he thrust his hips up gently, just once, to test Peter’s comfort and to make sure he was okay. Peter exhaled, fingertips gripping into the skin on Wade’s shoulder blades, beginning to move himself. He raised himself about half-way, to the base of Wade’s cock, before carefully lowering himself again. His own length was erect by now, and gradually, Peter started to ride Wade’s length, growing comfortable with the feeling of it. He was rather eager to find that same pleasure spot again, for he wasn’t aware how wonderful it had truly felt before. Soft moans spilled from Peter’s lips like silk.

“That’s it.” Wade whispered, his words spiraling into a soft, agreeable moan. He was tempted to thrust his hips up, but he remained patient for Peter’s sake, wanting him to be as relaxed as he possibly could.

Peter lowered himself again, and this time, the head of Wade’s cock moved directly into Peter’s prostate, brushing up against it. Peter gasped immediately, burrowing his face into Wade’s cheek. “O-Oh—Wade—” He cried out in pleasure, picking up the pace as he roughened up his actions in riding Wade’s length.

Wade groaned, pulling Peter close to him, and finally had he thrust his hips up into Peter to match his movements. Peter threw his head back, easy sounds of pure delight escaping his throat. Butterflied filled his stomach, fluttering against the walls as the pleasure increased between his legs. His head was fogging up again, probably in the very best way possible, and the thrill within his stomach simply increased with each thrust.

When Peter reached his climax and orgasmed, a lengthy, appreciative moan poured from his throat and flowed through Wade’s eardrums as if it were a symphonic melody, white fluid spilling from the head of his own cock and coating Wade’s sweaty chest. Peter’s own forehead and body was slick with moisture, and not soon after, Wade released, the both of them coming down from their high.

Peter collapsed down onto Wade’s chest, attempting to catch his breath as Wade moved to lay back as well, arms wrapping around Peter.

“Fuck.” Wade huffed, his own chest rising and falling swiftly.

Peter remained close to Wade, arms hanging loosely from Wade’s shoulders, and he planted a small kiss to his collarbone. “You’re amazing.” He mumbled.

“Fuck, no. That’s all you.” Wade kissed Peter’s head of sweaty curls, closing his eyes to calm down.

Peter smiled a bit. “I love you.” He mumbled for the third time. He could say that for the rest of his life.

Wade smiled. “I love you, too.”

;

“ _What?_ ” Jameson spat, pacing his office in slight anger to the news Peter had just given to him. Upon his desk was the prints Peter had from when Karen had taken them in the Spider-Suit (seeing as she records everything he does with the suit on), but instead of throwing dirt on Spider-Man, it showed Wade holding the gun, shooting the man who had just threatened to kill Peter. “What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” He scoffed. “This isn’t the shit I want from you, Parker. I was promised good shots.”

“Oh, but they are, Mr. Jameson.” Peter stood from his chair, pointing at one of the photos. “Look… In this one, Spider-Man and Deadpool are working together, obviously to stop the criminals… But in this one…” Peter moved his finger over to another photograph, “They’re working separately. Different cars. Now, a lot of people may think it’s because they’re trying to cover more area… But what if… What if Deadpool wants to take more of a violent route, rather than a scenic one?” Peter grinned a bit.

Jameson observed the photos, eyes widening slightly. “They’re jealous of each other.”

“Exactly.” Peter slowly moved to take a seat again. “They may not even care about each other. Maybe they just know there’s not enough room for the two of them in one city. Deadpool here is trying to prove death is the best option, but Spider-Man is taking a more moral approach…”

“Which obviously won’t work!” Jameson’s yellow teeth were revealed underneath his thick moustache.

“Uh—Sure.” Peter smiled. “This way, you can criticize him for not taking the easy way out.”

“Oh, that’s _perfect_ , Parker! Excellent. Oh, I’m going to make so many damn copies of these, Spider-Man will never see the light of day again!”

;

###  _July 2018_

#  _**THE DAILY BUGLE**_

__

### 

_SPIDER-MAN WANTS PEACE – BUT DEADPOOL, JUSTICE!_

On a hot summer day with-  
in July, things aren’t going so hot!  
Spider-Man and Deadpool, partners in justice,  
seem to be in disagreement of how to  
take care of the bad guys. Spider-Man wants  
to keep in mind the lives of others – Even when  
they’re criminals. 

Deadpool, on the other hand, decides to take the  
easy way out. Should we trust our beloved, four  
and a half-year superhero, Spider-Man, or change  
to more drastic, violent attempts to keep things in  
check? 

* * *

Wade laughed as he read over the excerpt of the article for the third time. “Oh, my God. This is hysterical. I can’t believe you convinced him to make Spider-Man look like the life-saving hero. Also, I’m a rabid killing badass. This is fucking awesome. Good work.”

Peter grinned, the two of them sitting atop a building, reading over the newspaper J. Jonah Jameson had so happily released. It was the next morning, busy New Yorkers honking their car horns below or rushing from block to block to get to their subway, catch their train or walk to work. It was cloudy and cool out, the breeze feeling nice against his skin and through his hair. “Thanks, Wade. I’m really glad.” He chuckled.

Wade sighed happily, looping an arm around Peter. They fell into a comfortable silence, Tony’s previous words being recalled within his mind.

_“Point is… Wade loves you a lot. I can see that myself.”_

Peter knew he was loved.

And he couldn’t be happier.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet for my ending. I hope you've all enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love all of you for your love and support. <3 Stay amazing.

The tips of ever-so-slightly calloused fingers grasped the combed cotton shell of the blanket, bringing it up and over the infant’s body. Tiny, stubby digits curled up and onto Peter’s forefinger, holding it in a loose grip, a soft, affectionate sound cooing from the baby’s sugar plum lips. Peter’s larger hand wrapped underneath and around the child as he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest with a calm smile. 

“Hey, honey,” Wade poked his head into the nursery of their home. That’s right. Peter and Wade, as time went on, had built a very stable relationship. The arguments had only strengthened the intimacy between them, and eventually, as the two of them grew older, they decided to adopt a child. Two, actually – One boy five years ago, and one girl three month ago. They loved them with all of their heart. “Where’s Anthony’s lunchbox?”

“I put it in the closet. Is it not in there?” Peter, still holding the infant, exited the nursery from where he had just been standing over the crib, following Wade down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Anthony – Tony, for short – was sitting happily at the island counter, his small legs swinging as he chomped down on his Cheerios. His face lit up at the sight of Peter. “Daddy!”

Peter handed May to Wade gently, taking a seat next to his adopted son, combing fingers through his messy bedhead. “’Morning, kiddo. I see you have a big, hearty breakfast right there.”

“Aha! Found it.” Wade said triumphantly, pulling out the Star Wars lunchbox from the snack cabinet next to the counter. He held May securely in his other hand and against his chest. Placing the lunchbox onto the counter, he rocked the small child in his arms slowly, who was babbling to herself cheerily. “Sweetheart, could you pack Tony’s lunchbox while I heat up May-sie Cakes some milk?”

“Absolutely.” Peter pushed himself off of the stool next to Anthony, approaching the counter and zipping open the empty lunchbox, starting to place in snacks and make up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for him. “What time’s my father coming over?”

Anthony lit up at that. “Grandpa Tony’s coming over?” He hopped off of the stool, half-finished with his cereal.

Wade placed the pot of milk onto the stove, turning up the flame before allowing it to heat up as he held May in both of his arms. “Oh, yeah. _And_ Grandpa Steve. They’re coming for dinner.”

“They’ll be here later, okay, love?” Peter knelt so that he was eyelevel with his son. “Go get your shoes, buddy. I’ll put ‘em on for you. The bus will be here soon.” 

“Okay.” He smiled, hugging his father tightly, before scurrying out of the room to grab his pair of Sketchers.

Peter exhaled happily, standing up as he finished packing the lunchbox, setting it aside for now, along with Tony’s backpack. He assisted Wade, making sure the milk wasn’t too hot as he poured it into May’s bottle.

Wade was silent, thanking Peter quietly as he took the bottle, allowing May to suckle from it happily. She was a beautiful baby.

“Do you ever think about us?” Peter asked, to kill the noiselessness.

“Oh, I think about us in _many_ ways.” Wade smirked playfully. After all of this time, he never lost his charm.

Peter reached up, scratching at the slight stubble on his cheek. He couldn’t help the small smile upon his lips to Wade’s words. “I meant… Us. As who we _used_ to be.”

Wade seemed to catch what Peter was saying after a moment, glancing away. He and Wade had stopped their super-hero ways after some time. Crime had gone down considerably, and college, getting a job and starting a family took a lot of work. Peter was currently working at the CUNY Advanced Science Research Center, while Wade had decided to lay low ( due to his still somewhat disfigured skin. ) Peter didn’t mind. It helped a lot to take care of May. Change was good.

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but Anthony came running into the room happily, crawling his way into a seat at the kitchen table.

“I’m ready.” He beamed, handing Peter his shoes.

Peter smiled gently, approaching as he started to put on his son’s shoes. “What are you bringing for show and tell today?”

Tony held out his little feet as Peter fastened the laces on each one. “I’m bringing my toys!”

“Are you bringing the stegosaurus today?” Peter grinned.

“No, the Brock-eye-o-sore-ee-us.” He mispronounced.

Peter laughed. “Brachiosaurus.” He corrected, kissing his forehead. To the sound of the bus coming up to the house, he patted Anthony’s shoulder and stood, helping him to get off the chair and put on his backpack. Handing him his lunchbox, Wade and Peter walked out with their adoptive son.

Anthony gave them both big hugs, before he ran off and into the bus. Watching as the bus rode off, Peter exhaled, slowly turning to Wade, and smiling down at May.

“Is Michelle coming to watch her today?” Wade asked.

“She’ll be here any minute now.” Peter explained, stepping inside with his husband and shutting the door behind him.

Peter wasn’t wrong, for about five minutes later, Michelle arrived.

“And make sure to feed her every two to three hours. Otherwise, she gets really cranky and will probably start to scream.” Wade said.

Michelle held May in her arms with a smile, taking a seat at the armchair in the living room, cradling the infant’s head. “Wade, I’ve watched your daughter since she was born. We’ll be fine.”

“Wade will be home in a couple of hours, anyway. He’ll just run a couple of errands and be back by, say, noon.” Peter explained, starting to put on his tie.

Wade opened his mouth to speak, but the three of them froze when the news came on the television, blaring in an almost alerting tone.

###  _**MASSIVE THREAT IN AN ENDANGERED SUIT** _

> _FROM THE LOOKS OF IT, THIS ENORMOUS MAN IN A HEAVILY ARMOURED RHINO SUIT DOES NOT SEEM TO BE TAKING THE HITS FROM OUR NEW YORK POLICE DEPARTMENT – AS A THREAT TO THE CITIZENS OF NEW YORK, WEST TWENTY-SEVENTH TO WEST THIRTY-FOURTH HAS BEEN CLEARED. WHERE IS OUR BELOVED SPIDER-MAN NOW?_

Peter blinked at the television, slowly turning to Wade, who was gaping at the TV. He slowly looked over at Peter, frozen as well, before they both looked at Michelle.

“Well, what are you just standing there for?” MJ rose a brow. “I’m watching May. _Go._ ”

Peter and Wade exchanged glances again.

Soon enough, he felt the breeze against the fabric of his suit as he swung from building to building to reach the crime scene, web fluid shooting from the container on his wrist. Wade followed shortly behind, hopping from car to car, katanas in his hand and at the ready.

Maybe not _all_ things had to change.


End file.
